


The Trust Theory

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Bucky Is a Good Bro, Bucky gets to play babysitter, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual drinking, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint and his love for Tony's robots, Clint is a bit attention starved, Clint is far too used to waking up with no clothes, First Kiss, Hurt Bucky, Hurt Clint, Learning to trust, M/M, Mild Language, NERVOUS CLINT, On the Run, Protective Clint, Ronin Clint Barton, Sassy Clint, Upset Bucky, Upset Clint, Vacation, Vulnerable Clint, distrustful Bucky, distrustful Clint, occasional sex jokes, they do not get along at first, throwing Cap's shield, unamused Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25801672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Ever since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the scuffle at the airport, Clint Barton has been on the run with the sense that there was no one left to trust. After three years, Bucky Barnes is sent to collect him and bring him back to New York and everyone he had left behind. Clint is left teetering on if he can trust his old friends enough to go back, or if he needs to find a way to outsmart the infamous assassin.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 26
Kudos: 180
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Louisi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louisi/gifts).



> Thank you for the opportunity to write this. Louisi. I have always been a sucker for Ronin Clint antics. =) I hope you enjoy it.

“ _ In other news, the vigilante known only as Ronin left his calling card again last night. This time it was in the city of- _ ”

Clint barely paid attention to the television, although he did glance up to see a still photo someone managed to catch of him from the previous night’s activities, and he was suddenly very thankful for masks. He had never really understood how anyone could like full face coverings, but they sure came in handy when you didn’t want anyone knowing exactly who you were. He did learn a valuable lesson- no garlic before the mask goes on. Breathing in your own garlic breath wasn’t an experience he would wish on his worst enemies.

Clint smiled and looked down at his notebook and crossed another five names off his list. Was he proud of himself for taking down five of Japan’s top drug and slave traders? Hell yeah he was- it was a hard night’s work and it only cost him a few bandages and aching ribs. Was he proud that last night someone actually offered to hire him if that meant he could live? Double yes. Was he happy to find out the person that offered had been an operative from S.H.I.E.L.D. who secretly worked for HYDRA? No, which made stabbing that person all the better. He might have stabbed him a few more times than strictly necessary, but that was a whole different story. He made up for that though- he tossed one guy off of a balcony with some cable wrapped around his leg. That was merciful, right? He might have fallen to his death eventually but did it count if Clint wasn’t there to witness it? Nope.

Ever since that day at the airport, since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and Clint was classified as a fugitive, Clint made it a habit to keep low. He never really stayed in one area for too long, always kept to himself. But just because S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed didn’t mean Clint didn’t have contacts globally, nor had he forgotten all of the underground shit what was going on globally. So, when he could, he snuck in some side work. Was it illegal? Definitely. But it was fulfilling when he could actually pull it all off.

While he would like to blame the whole “fugitive on the run” bit on Steve, Clint knew he would have taken Steve’s side regardless of the outcome- they might have had their spats, but Clint respected the hell out of the guy, and there was no way Clint would have signed that filth the UN put forth. He barely enjoyed working for S.H.I.E.L.D. due to its slight government influence- he certainly wouldn’t have liked being limited in his reach because Suzy Q from Norway thought that Murdery-Murderson A deserved a second chance through rehab. Clint knew how rehabbing people like Osborn and Kingpin went- more corruption and bought politicians. So- vigilante life had sounded pretty damn good.

Ronin was just one of many personas Clint had taken on in his thirty-three years of life, and while it probably wasn’t the most soothing of personas to take, it had it’s means. Clint had to learn how to wield a sword, which was actually a fun undertaking, but it used all of the skills he had learned from the time he was thirteen so he wasn’t really out too much. He was pretty sure Jacques would be wanting to take all the credit for teaching him what Clint had known in the past, brag about how he trained Clint to be Ronin- Clint hoped to never have to hear about it.

Clint looked down at his bruised hands before he slowly cracked his knuckles. He needed to move on from Japan, and he couldn’t quite decide where he wanted to land next. A part of him knew he should leave the fighting behind him- it was a risk to keep putting himself in these situations, but living like a civilian sounds like torture. Getting up, going to work, and repeating that every day? Clint wasn’t sure he could survive that. He had heard a rumor of a covert mutant testing facility- those never turned out to be good places. However, the last time Clint had ran into someone with mutant abilities he had almost drowned, so he wasn’t sure he was willing to go back to that just yet.

With a sigh, Clint pulled himself out of bed and showered, hoping to loosen up sore muscles. He changed into fresh clothes, reminding himself that tomorrow he needed to do laundry, and left the apartment, keeping his eyes straight ahead instead of glancing at the people in the halls. He knew better than to get too close, too nosey, with the neighbors. Usually the only one Clint would even look at was his landlord- who he imagined filleting everytime they had a conversation; he was going to take great pride in leaving the apartment and speaking to that man in Japanese- he hated when people assumed he was stupid, and he took a great deal of delight in proving them wrong. Hell- that was the only reason he learned to speak French enough to be passable.

Clint made a beeline for the subway system and headed over to the less sketchy side of town. All he really wanted to do was buy a new burner phone, just in case he needed it, get himself food for the day, and maybe pick up a small trinket that would easily fit in his bag. A small part of him still held onto the hope that one day, somewhere down the line, he could see everyone again. He likely wouldn’t tell anyone but Natasha about how he spent his time on the run- he didn’t expect anyone on the team to understand it aside from Natasha.

Japan had always been one of Clint’s favorite travel destinations, even if it was harder to blend in. He liked the vibe he got from the large cities, and he liked traveling to the smaller cities where everything seemed to shift. He liked the mash up between the newer culture, the bright lights and quirks, and the more traditional side of the country. Everything was balanced in such an intriguing way that Japan always seemed to pull Clint back to it.

Clint bought a few small trinkets first; he was passing a store and saw them hanging up and he couldn’t resist. They were small keychains of cats dressed up like the Avengers. There was even one of himself, which was a smidge harder to find, just like Natasha merch. He bought the items quickly, storing them in his bag, and went about his day with just a little more pep in his step.

Japan was filled with cafes, which was a blessing because the smell of coffee was as enticing as ever. His discovery that some of these places had cats and such in them for petting which was an added bonus. He really wished there was a dog cafe close, even if that would be dangerous. Clint was pretty sure the only way he would ever settle in life was if he owned a dog or three, maybe five- knowing Clint he’d own a herd. The cafe he settled in lacked any animal life.

He pulled out a map and a notebook and set it up on the table as he ate. Maybe he would head to Russia next, or Ukraine. He always had rotten luck in those countries, but maybe the tides had changed. He tapped his pen on the table, trying to think. Maybe he could slip back into the states, maybe stay in Canada for some time. Canada had its own demons, even if they were more tightly under wraps. If he slipped back into the states he could possibly get a herd of dogs. Maybe big ones, and they could just pile up on him at night. Death by dog cuddles didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.

Clint had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear or notice the commotion at the front of the store. When he heard a mechanical noise approaching, the sound of tracks on the ground, he finally looked up and nearly jolted out of his seat. It was some type of robot, balancing on tracks at the base in some pattern that made it move, maybe a little on the jerky side, but in a few different directions. It was crude in some way, maybe not as modern as he had seen, but the fact that it was headed right towards him made Clint a little uneasy, especially with the screen attached to the top.

The screen flashed on and Clint did his very best not to leave his seat and run for it. He needed time to think, time to observe, because he knew that somehow he had been caught and it wasn’t just by a screen with Tony Stark’s face on it.

“Hey bird brain,” Tony greeted as cheerfully as ever. There wasn’t the snark, the anger and betrayal that Clint had last heard from Tony. He didn’t even look hurt, although there was something on his face that Clint couldn’t place but he didn’t like it. “Enjoying Japan? Enjoy Barcelona?”

“You are causing a scene,” Clint informed him.

“And you are a very hard man to find,” Tony answered. “Can I sit?”

“You aren’t even-” the robot lowered enough where the screen was face level with Clint. “... are you fucking kidding me right now?” Clint asked, trying hard to sound unimpressed. Clint wanted to take the robot apart, examine it, make it his new best friend. He hated Tony and his damn seduction by robots- Clint loved the things and Tony knew it, used it to his advantage.

“Nifty, huh? Probably not my best work, probably should have put it on a ball but I didn’t feel like taking the time to make sure it would support the weight without easily toppling over.” Clint tried not to let the comfort of Tony talking engineering to him soothe him over. He looked away, tried to scan the crowd in the restaurant before looking outside. “It’s just us, Clint. Calm down. Do you really think I would put you in a dangerous situation? Wait, is that yogurt that you are eating?”

“Tony.”

“Since when do you eat yogurt? Or bananas for that fact,” Tony rambled.

“What do you want?”

Tony’s smile turned a little sad. “You aren’t happy to see me? It’s been three years.”

“I’m not seeing you. I’m looking like a weirdo talking to a robot and I am pretty sure people are taking videos. Videos I don’t need to be posted online and for people to find out my location,” Clint said, his voice straining to keep his calm. He hated every bit of this current conversation. “How did you find me?”

“A lot of work and a lot of guessing,” Tony answered vaguely. “I need you to come back to New York.”

“Can’t.”

Tony’s smile was strained now. “You can. I can help you. But you need to come back to New York.”

“Tony-”

“Clinton.”

Clint felt his nose scrunch up and he took a bite from his yogurt. “I’m not going back to New York, Tony. Or DC for that matter. You might as well kiss that idea goodbye and throw it in the wind.” He reached back and grabbed his backpack before he started packing it.

“You know that you are putting yourself in a very dangerous situation, right?” Tony asked. “How long before other people figure it out? Call you out. Seek you out.”

Clint stood up and slung his bag over his back as the robot raised almost to his height. Clint took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “The fact you found out and sought me out proves others already know,” he said flatly. “Have a good life, Tones. But I’m not going back to New York.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Tony answered. “Last chance, Merida.”

Clint paused. Tony had said they were alone, didn’t he? But if he was afraid that Clint would have responded this way- there had to be others. Clint wasn’t sure who, but they had to be around. And the fact he only had one last chance set that idea firmly in his head. He looked back at the crowd, tried to find someone out of place, and he knew that Tony knew he was on the lookout.

“Paranoid?” Tony asked in a taunting manner.

“Brimming with the same level of confidence I always do,” Clint answered. “If you think you are getting me back without a fight, you are wrong. If you think I’ll be alive just for you to throw me in the some prison-”

“Clint, I told you- I can help,” Tony said, cutting him off.

Clint looked back at the monitor. “Yeah, and I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. were the good guys. How wrong was I then?” he asked. “Goodbye, Tony.”

He made a beeline for the door, trying to ignore the people with cameras. Whatever Clint did now, he needed to do it as fast as he could. Airports were out, too much security. He could lay low in Japan for a few weeks, let everything buzz over. Maybe steal a boat and try to make it somewhere else. The threat of dying in the open sea wasn’t exactly an enjoyable thought to Clint, but it sure beat prison where he would have no freedoms at all, and he trusted Tony about as far as he could throw an elephant at the moment.

The subway was out- there were cameras there and Clint knew Tony would have access to them. He needed to stay topside, as far from cameras as he could. He needed to get back, grab his things, and make a run for it. There was a high chase they had found his apartment, but it was a risk Clint had to take in order to grab his larger weapons. If, by some small chance, they hadn’t found his apartment yet, he could wait it out until the night, where he would have much better coverage. 

Clint was a few blocks from his apartment when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He knew he was being watched. He forced himself to stare straight ahead, not draw attention to it, and keep his shoulders pulled down. He itched for a knife or something to keep in his hands, something he could use to defend himself. His eyes flickered up, looked at the rooftops, but he didn’t see anyone following him from that angle, so it had to be street level. 

With an abandoned building up ahead, Clint paused on his path. On the other side would be more alleyways, a few houses, but no one that was overly friendly. He shifted his bag on his shoulders, trying to think of his next move. He was too on edge to move forward, and he was too tired to come up with a solid plan. He hadn’t seen a soul that looked out of place, but Tony’s words were replaying in his head, that feeling of being followed was still lingering there.

Clint dropped his bag down. “Can we maybe just fight this out?” he asked. “I don’t feel like being clever.”

He barely had time to get the words out before he saw a flash of silver coming at his face and he dodged to the left, pulling an arm up to prevent the silver- arm? Wait, it was an arm. What the hell was a silver arm-

“Hey! I know you!” Clint said, shocked as he looked at the familiar face. He couldn’t place his face, but he  _ knew _ the guy.

That didn’t really help the matter at hand. The man in front of him was ruthless, trying to find a way to disarm Clint, get him pinned to a wall or against the ground. He was shorter, stockier, and fast. And the one time that silver did knock his head, Clint was pretty sure he had seen stars.  _ I’m fighting a freakin’ cyborg _ Clint thought. He always thought fighting a cyborg would be cooler than what it was. He always pictured it being a little easier, where Clint had the upper hand and knew it. This was far from that.

A flash of red caught his attention when Clint blocked another blow, which was going to leave an amazing bruise on his arm, and he tilted his head before it finally clicked.

“Oh hell no!” Clint said, turning his game up a notch. Whatever it was, it startled the man. “You are working with Tony? Really?” Clint asked, slipping to the side and whacking the man on the back of the head before he took off, snatching his bag up as he went.

All things considered, Clint considered himself a lucky man. He had lived up until this point, which was impressive enough. He had some laughs along the way, took down AIM bases and HYDRA cells. He had stopped terrorist threats. Sure, he might have been used as a murder puppet for about seventy-two hours somewhere in the mix, which was  _ not _ enjoyable, but he survived. Clint Barton, by all accounts, thought his life could have been far worse.

Now though- now he was playing a game of chase and hit with the Winter Soldier, which was someone he really didn’t want to deal with. Natasha had told him stories of the assassin, and it was enough to make anyone have chills down their spine. It was the only known assassin Clint really thought he would be okay never getting into a fight with. At least with Natasha he knew that she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, or put him in a spot where he was in danger. That was one world class assassin on his side. This though? This was a different ballpark.

Clint didn’t know where Bucky stood today. Last he knew he was working with Steve, or he guessed that running away with Steve was more accurate. Clint had taken a call at one point, before his world went to shit, asking if he would consider coming out of retirement to help collect the Winter Soldier. He supposed their rationale was that he was the one who pulled one assassin in, maybe he could get lucky and pull two in. His rationale was that it would likely be the day he died. But it was hard as hell to tell Steve no, and he did feel bad for Steve’s childhood best friend.

Whether the man following him was still on Steve’s side, or Tony’s, or was back under HYDRA control, Clint was screwed. Unless he could think of something on the fly that would give him the edge, he knew his strengths and they weren’t quite as high as a super soldier’s. In the last two years, there was never a moment he wished he had his old trick arrows, but he was sure there right now. If that arm was made of vibranium like Steve’s shield, there was a chance, although small, that he could use a putty arrow to freeze it up for a moment. Or if he had an electric arrow and he shot just right, it could disturb whatever sensors.

There was a shadow from overhead before Clint skidded to a stop, nearly tumbling from the sudden motion. “Okay, just going to say it. That is both badass and annoying,” Clint said as Bucky stalked forward. “What exactly did you do, huh? Parkour the shit outta things behind me?” he asked. “So, uh- we aren’t looking amused. Please tell me you aren’t, I dunno, working for someone who wants to murder me.”

“I’m bringing you back to New York,” Bucky said, his voice just as rough as Clint had imagined, although it wasn’t as deep. 

“Yeah, see, we got a problem there,” Clint said. “I’m not interested. I’m not joining the band again. Look at what happened the last time.” Clint floated a hand down, emphasizing the sound of an airplane crashing as he acted like it crashed. “Can we just pretend you beat me up and I sneaked away?”

“I don’t think so,” Bucky said. “I can give you a head start again if you want.”

“I feel like this is a trap,” Clint said carefully. Bucky raised his eyebrows and shrugged noncommittally. “Yeah… you are going to shoot me in the back, aren’t you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is it a night-night gun?” Clint asked, groaning when Bucky shrugged again. “Awwww, night-night gun, no... wait! You made me run like hell when this could have ended minutes ago?”

For the first time, Bucky smiled just enough that Clint wasn’t sure if that should make him nervous or relieved. “To be honest, I thought it was funny to watch you run. You run weird.”

“I run- what does that even mean?! I don’t run weird, I-” Clint lurched forward and grabbed his shoulder. “Awwww, you suuu-” Clint said before he passed out.

It wasn’t the first time Clint had woken up tied to a chair and mostly naked. It was, however, one of the few times he woke up that way and didn’t have a light in his eyes or someone shouting at him. Clint groaned and opened his eyes, looking at the floor before he looked up and scanned the room, figuring out it was a hotel of some sort; if he was feeling like an asshole he could scream, and keep going until he was knocked out again or someone came to his rescue.

“I really don’t think that is a smart idea,” Clint heard his captor say, his voice echoing which had to mean he was in the bathroom. “Because that’s almost three days in a car, and something tells me this guy is going to be a pain in my ass.” Bucky wasn’t wrong- Clint was going to be the largest pain in Bucky’s ass.

Clint started feeling out the ropes, both hating and appreciating the fact that Bucky had done an excellent job. He wondered if maybe he could pull a Natasha- do some fancy flip into Bucky, crush the chair at the weak point, then maybe stab the guy in the stomach so he could run. He was a supersoldier, he would heal… right? Clint was weighing the pros and cons of that idea- it wasn’t very practical, and chances were high that Bucky would just beat him to the punch, but in his head it looked like it would be badass.

“Can’t I just keep him drugged?” Clint turned his head and glared at the bathroom door, not enjoying that thought. The idea of feeling fuzzy, his mind not clicking, left Clint testing the ropes more, not bothering to hide his intentions, not that Bucky could see him currently. “It’s not like I’d kill him. Just enough for him to maybe not talk the whole drive.” Now Clint knew he had to talk the whole time. Check. “Alright, fine. You better be right about all this- we need to get Steve back.”

That made Clint frown and look at the mirror.  _ What the hell does that mean? _ Clint started shifting frantically in his seat, trying to find a weak point in the knots behind him. He couldn’t help but think there was some sort of bargaining going on and Clint was  _ not  _ going to sit there idly as they tried to trade himself for someone else.

Bucky walked out of the bathroom and looked at Clint just as Clint stilled. It wasn’t exactly a hesitant look on Bucky’s face, but something more reserved. “You woke up sooner than expected.”

“You know, if you wanted to get me naked, you could have just asked,” Clint commented, feeling his lips twisting up. “Not usually into whips and chains and all that, but I can make an exception for the right price.”

The flare up on Bucky’s face was worth the comment, even if Clint thought there was a high probability that he would get decked for it. Instead, Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before he sighed. “Oh, this is going to be a mistake.”

“I tried to warn you.” Bucky glared at Clint. “Pft. You can’t glare as well as Natasha can.” It was a lie, but Clint wasn’t going to back down. “So hey, if I am going to be a pain in your ass, maybe we can-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even hear me out here,” Clint protested.

Bucky walked over and grabbed the back of the chair and tilted it back. Clint hated the feeling like he could topple over, especially when he was pretty sure it could lead to a broken hand or worse. Clint’s face fell back into a neutral look while Bucky looked downright unamused.

“Alright, I am going to say this exactly once. I am not a fan. We need your help, and if I have to drag you by your hair, I will do it. But you are going to be getting on a plane, and you are going to go to New York. You help us, your name gets cleared and you don’t have prison time. You don’t help us, I will personally rip your limbs off one by one starting at each joint until I work my way up.”

Clint tilted his head to the side. “Will you continue to do that if I act like I’m enjoying it? Do I get a safe word? I pick bananas. It’s fun to shout.”

Clint watched Bucky’s face turn very blank for a moment, his eyes cold, before he took a deep breath and lowered the chair back down. With a glance down, Clint could see Bucky working his fingers in what he assumed was an attempt to not punch Clint. “They warned me you’d be like this. I am not going to cave and give you what you want.”

“Well that’s a pity. I do love to be punched in the face.”

“I bet you do,” Bucky replied dryly, disappearing from view. “We’re staying here for a few hours before we head out. Sleep or something. Don’t be obnoxious.”

“Now  _ that _ is a task that is too hard,” Clint drawled. He heard something drop on the bed behind him before it turned quiet. “Hey! You can’t go to sleep on me! I just woke up! I need to pee. Someone to talk to. Food. Coffee.”

“You need to shut the hell up,” Bucky responded with a growl.

“I think you need to- hey!” Clint shouted, a pillow smacking the back of his head. “Okay, first, rude.”

“Do you want to be stunned again?” Clint sagged his shoulders, because that was something he didn’t want to happen again. “Thought so. Shut up. I need to sleep. Chasing after you has not been my favorite mission, and that is comparing this to some of the shit HYDRA put me through.”

“I’ll try not to be proud of that,” Clint answered in a flat tone before he went quiet.

Clint hated the waiting game, but he did it. He took shallow breaths, tried to make sure he could hear the exact moment Bucky had fallen asleep, and then he started to plan. There had to be something in that room that Clint could use to get free. There was no way in hell the guy didn’t keep a few knives around. It was slow work, trying to move the chair, inch by inch, as quietly as possible. Clint worked at the knots, knowing full well that his wrists were going to rub themselves raw- probably his arms too. He didn’t care- the threat of being used as a pawn in someone’s game made him keep going.

It took about two hours, but Clint managed to find one of the hidden knives close to the bathroom. He bit back a cry of relief as he carefully maneuvered it in his hands to try to saw through a bit of rope. He kept his eyes on Bucky as he did so, making sure he wasn’t stirring. So far, he was in luck.

When the rope did give away, Clint stretched out his arms in front of him, putting the knife’s handle in his mouth and checking the damage. Sure, he was a bit bloody, but nothing was broken. His arm looked fine, so he didn’t think Bucky inserted a tracker under the skin, unless Tony came up with some nanotech bullshit. Clint bent down and took the ties off his legs as quickly as he could.

A click of a gun brought his attention back to Bucky, and Clint was  _ not _ going to cry from frustration. Instead, he looked at the gun, and it was  _ not  _ a stun gun, and Clint started to smile. “Well hello, sunshine. How long have you been awake?” he greeted before he looked up at Bucky.

“I wondered how long it would take you. It’s impressive. Only one hours and forty-seven minutes.” Clint was singing a song full of curse words in his head. “Why did you pick the bathroom knife?” Bucky asked. “Nevermind, stupid question. Furthest away. You were going to check the bathroom once done to see if it was complete or if there was a gap space.”

“Maybe I just really had to pee and thought a shower sounded nice,” Clint answered boredly. “I’m not going back with you. Tony said he was alone. That was a lie. What other lies are you both going to spout until I’m there, huh?”

Bucky walked forward. “Give me the knife.”

“No thank you, I think I’ll keep this one,” Clint answered, lifting his chin in defiance. “The only place this knife is going is in your body somewhere if you think you are going to snatch me back up. And you won’t kill me because you need me to get Steve back.”

Bucky frowned. “Need you to what?”

“I heard you on the phone,” Clint said. “I’m not going back to New York for Tony to formulate some bullshit ‘let’s rescue my old flame by doing a switcharooney’ plan. You realize how terrible his fucking plans can be? Terrible. Zero stars on Superheroes R’ us.”

“That was not what-” Bucky began to say.

It was what Clint needed. Just a moment of confusion, uncertainty, and it was enough to take a chance. Clint lurched forward and tackled Bucky to the ground, creating a scuffle for the gun. At least while on top, Clint had the advantage of long arms and long legs. He tucked his legs up and pressed a forearm down on Bucky’s head, trying to keep it turned to the side as he fought for the gun. He just needed to eliminate one variable at a time, work through it.

What Clint was not expecting was for Bucky to power through and slowly make it to his feet. It wasn’t like Clint was a scrawny guy- he had weight to him, he had muscles. But Bucky sat up first and Clint tried to shift his weight to get him back down, but it was throwing him off his center to do so. Without even using his hands, he moved just enough to get his legs under him. Clint felt a pang of fear for a moment before he changed tactics. 

_ Screw the gun _ he thought- he just needed to get away. Before he could unwrap himself enough to vault over Bucky and try for the door, Bucky spun them and slammed Clint down on the bed, Bucky following through, the bed breaking under the sudden pressure. Clint felt the air rush out of his lungs for a moment and he tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain. That first breath back in wasn’t without some effort to say the least.

“I really didn’t want to have to do this,” Bucky said. Clint snapped open his eyes in time to feel something sharp poke his side. He glared at Bucky and reached down, trying to push his hands away. “We’ll talk again later.” Clint pulled his legs up in an attempt to throw Bucky off him, his hands digging into Bucky’s arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

Clint was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be.

Waking up with a groan, Clint opened his eyes and squinted against the sun beating down onto him from the car. Clint turned his head and closed his eyes, trying to give himself a minute to figure out what was going on. Last he remembered he was in a hotel room, and his back confirmed that he may have been body slammed into a bed, which broke, which Clint wanted to make kink-fueled jokes about but damn did it hurt.

The car was stopped, but he couldn’t hear if it was running or not. Now that Clint could focus a minute, he noticed he couldn’t hear much of anything. He forced himself to sit up in his seat, looking at the blanket thrown over his chest, hiding the fact he was handcuffed and he snorted. How this was his life he wasn’t exactly sure. Clint looked around and noticed they were stopped at a gas station, but they were in the middle of nowhere. Trying to plead his case with a stranger wasn’t going to work. 

Clint pulled the blanket off and looked at the handcuffs, turning his wrists around, but seeing that even if he dislocated his thumb, there was no way he was going to fit through the small space Bucky had left. Just like the rope before, Clint both loved and hated this man for his skills. It was a weird mix of being turned on and wanting to kill him at the same time. Natasha was right- Clint really did have some messed up world views.

Movement caught his eye, pulling his attention away from the handcuffs as Bucky walked towards the car. Clint let his arms drop to his lap- it was a hopeless endeavor to fight any harder. Bucky opened the door and slid in, passing the bag over to Clint. Clint watched his lips as they moved, forming words that Clint only half caught- he was a bit rusty on his reading lips skill. When Clint didn’t react, Bucky looked over at him with a very pointed “well”. That Clint did catch. Clint raised his arms then tapped his ear before he flicked the first hearing aid out, followed by the other.

Bucky got out of the car and into the trunk. When he came back he tossed a case down on Clint’s lap, shiny white with the SI logo in a silver tone. Clint hesitated before he opened the case to a pair of new hearing aids, a bright purple with electric pink racing down the side. He had owned a pair like this before, asking Tony to make him all sorts of hearing aids, which Tony grumbled about before he proceeded to make them anyway with a smile. Clint fitted them into his ears, turning them on as he went.

“You drugged me,” Clint commented, the first thing that came to mind.

“You threatened to attack me with a knife and tried to grab my gun,” Bucky answered calmly.

“You drew a  _ real _ gun on me. What was I supposed to do?” Clint asked, wrinkling his nose. Bucky was silent, turning the car on before he pulled off. “You realize I have long legs and can reach over and make us crash, right?”

“You aren’t going to do that,” Bucky answered. “In the bag- everything is yours minus the mint colored candy package and the large bottle of water. Give me my shit.” Clint stared at Bucky then looked at the bag. He peeled it back, checking the inside. “You were still asleep so I stopped for a burger in the last town we passed.”

“Well aren’t you fuckin’ charming. You could have gotten me something,” Clint mumbled.

“You are awfully whiny for a guy who is still living and isn’t having to do anything besides be a shotgun rider,” Bucky pointed out.

Clint sighed and got the water out first, nearly tossing it at Bucky before he got the candy, which he did toss at Bucky. Bucky cut him a glare that could easily frighten most people- to Clint it was just another day dealing with someone he really didn’t want to deal with. Clint looked in the bag, picking at things until he settled on omusubi and a donut. He was relieved to see two cans of coffee, which he knew he was going to breeze through in no time- he couldn’t remember the last time he had coffee at this point. He was pretty sure it was at the cafe before Stark made his appearance.

The ride was tense at best, neither of them talking or even making an attempt. The radio was so low Clint couldn’t hear what was being said. It gave Clint too much time to think, but a plan wasn’t coming to mind yet. He was outmatched as far as he could tell, which wasn’t a good feeling. He wanted to talk to Tony, ask him if this was his idea of being “alone”. He wanted to talk to Natasha, figure out what exactly was happening. If she was anywhere near his old crew, she wouldn’t hide any information. But then again- Bucky was the one here, not Natasha, and that had to mean something. Maybe he couldn’t even trust the one person who had been dependable in his life.

If Clint could just make it to Russia, or even India, Clint knew he had items hidden, places he could go to lay low. If laying low and not doing anything meant he could avoid what was happening, Clint could do it. He could give up doing the whole Ronin business, give it all away if it meant he had something solid to hold onto. He just needed to figure out how to make that happen.

Clint looked in the mirror and frowned. He was quiet for a few minutes before the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. He glanced at Bucky who was focused straight forward, his jaw clenched. He noticed it too. Somewhere along the way, they had a car start following them. Clint’s fingers began to feel twitchy.

“Uncuff me,” Clint said firmly.

“No. When I figure this out, you are staying in the car, away from the action,” Bucky answered. “Friends of yours?”

“I was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative and an Avengers, it’s anyone’s best guess,” Clint answered. He saw a second car turn down from a road and observed it. “There are a few local gangs in this part of Japan, and then there are two large scale operations. Former life, it’s a possibility no matter which way you shake it. Now… likely the smaller ones if they are looking for me. Lucky for me, they aren’t coming here for me. I’m just going to be a happy bonus.”

“And why do you think that?”

“The second car, the passenger has a patch on his sleeve,” Clint answered before he looked over at Bucky. “I think HYDRA has more of a reason to come after you than they do me.” Bucky’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What’s the plan, Bucky?”

“We are going to out drive them.”

“We are going to do what now?” Clint asked in disbelief. “They are going to have ram cars! What do you  _ mean _ we are going to out drive them?” Bucky was silent, checking his mirrors as he drove. “... you are about to pull some Captain America dumb shit on me, aren’t you?”

“I need to find a spot where I can handle this safely,” Bucky said. “Shut up and let me think. Middle of nowhere isn’t ideal for what I need to do.”

Clint let Bucky go, keeping his eye on the situation behind them. He knew what he would have done back in the day- he would have found an area where his back was protected and worry about the other three sides. He would have limited the exposure to civilians getting hurt even if that meant there was a chance he would have gotten hurt in the process.

“We got a third car now,” Clint observed. Bucky didn’t say anything. “Look, give me a truce here. You uncuff me, we take down the threat, and then I’ll give you time to cuff me again and get us somewhere safe to bunker down. But clearly they know we are here. And the last thing we need is for them to send more foot soldiers in. All HYDRA bases in Japan are research only. They work with AIM here.”

“Why do you know all this?” Bucky asked.

“I work alone- any intel I can get to help me is good intel to have,” Clint said.

“And how did you get this intel?”

Clint scrunched his nose before he looked back out the window. “Let’s leave that story for another time. Look, they are trying to flank up. You better have a- fuck!” Clint shouted, scrambling to hold onto the roof as the tires squealed and Bucky took a sharp right. The engine revved and Bucky leaned over, opening the glove department and pulled a set of keys out. “.... you serious right now?”

“Not my fault you didn’t look there,” Bucky commented. “I am going behind that structure back there. Backseat has a bag with guns and knives. Make it work. This doesn’t make us friends. You’re still going to have to put the handcuffs back on after this.”

Clint eyed the area then nodded before he fumbled to get the handcuffs off. “Yeah, well, rather that happen then be dragged to a HYDRA base because you’re an arrogant asshole.” Clint turned and grabbed the bag before he ducked down as the glass shattered out of the back, piece by piece. “Ah shit, I hate this.”

Clint divvied up the supplies Bucky had on hand. He stared at the gun and grumbled before he put it away carefully and focused on the knives. Bucky grabbed two of the guns and two knives before he pulled off.

“Hey,” Clint said, looking over. “Whatever happens? I’m not going to let them take you, alright? As much as I hate this, hate this whole week so far, I’m not letting anyone go with them. Last thing I do.”

“Just focus on staying alive,” Bucky muttered, throwing the car into park and getting out.

Clint nodded and got out and took cover first as the gunfire rang out. Clint switched over to the gun and caught sight of where people were before he fired. He only looked over at Bucky once, making sure he was in a secure position before Clint was on the move, switching back to his knives.

In the three years Clint had been laying low, or at least not being an Avengers, he had taken every step possible to hide himself from HYDRA. If he ran into them during his own mini-adventures, that was one thing, but he never actively sought them out. It made it so much easier that for the time being even HYDRA was back working in the shadows more, watching carefully at how aggressively they sought out different prospects. Clint knew that no matter what hit he had taken during the S.H.I.E.L.D. fallout, HYDRA had taken a bigger hit.

The few agents that were chasing Bucky were good, Clint gave them that. They were well trained, well, armed, and thankfully very much human. He had heard the rumors that HYDRA had recruited some Inhumans as of late, and that was something Clint didn’t want, or need, to get tied up in.

Clint locked an arm around one man and spun them away, knocking him into a car. Clint flipped the knife around in his hand and lashed out- one less HYDRA agent to put up with in the long run. He moved again and again, trying to get in close and draw some of the attention away from Bucky. He had glanced up only once once he had switched to the knives to make sure he didn’t need coverage. 

A bullet whizzed past Clint closely and hit the man behind him. Clint flinched and looked at Bucky’s cocky grin and flipped him off. “I am going to view that almost gunshot wound as a kiss,” he shouted out before he put himself back into work. He needed to stop paying attention to what Bucky was doing- he was handling it just fine.

A hand grabbed him and Clint was thrown, slamming his back against the wall. Clint winced and stood on his toes before he dropped down and felt the hands on him again. Knuckles connected with his temple and Clint went down, wrapping his legs around the torso of the man who fell on top of him.

“Hawkeye in the flesh,” the man bragged. “We've been looking for you.”

“Sorry, Hawkeye can’t come to the phone right now. He’s dead,” Clint muttered, struggling to push up against the guy’s face. Something heated under his hand and Clint swore. “Dammit.” Just when he thought the only enhanced person around was Bucky, Clint pulled his hand away from the burn that was developing and felt a forearm press down against his neck.

“Think you are so funny,” the man said. Clint gasped and pushed up, the burning sensation running through his neck, his hands, everywhere that was touching the man. “I wonder how much I will get for you. Maybe a new-”

The man collapsed down on top of Clint, the heat still there but slowly dying. Clint gasped and coughed, trying to get in a full breath as he shoved the body off of him. He felt sick to his stomach when he got a good look at the kid, and Clint meant kid. He was maybe sixteen at best and Clint swallowed back his anger at the thought of HYDRA using kids for their wars.

Clint pushed himself up until he didn’t hear any gunshots anymore, everything being replaced with groaning. Clint staggered to the side and sat on the hood of a car, trying to catch his breath. His back was screaming- his neck felt raw, both inside and out. He was exhausted down to his bone.

Clint raised his arm up when someone blocked the sunlight and Bucky gripped his arm. “Hey, hey, calm down, it’s okay.” Clint nodded and let his arm go heavy before Bucky let it drop. “Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“Just sore,” Clint muttered. “If this was part of your plan to get me to come compliantly… might be working,” Clint commented before he leaned back.

“Not part of the plan, no,” Bucky said gently. “Come on. We need to go. Our car is dead.”

“Put me in that one,” Clint said, tilting his head. “I’ll hotwire it.”

“That’s illegal,” Bucky said sternly.

“We, mostly you, just killed how many people and you really want to argue the ethics of stealing cars?” Clint asked. Clint grabbed a knife from Bucky’s pants and flung it when someone sat up, raising a gun. Bucky and Clint froze as the man fell back. “... you are going to bitch about that to me too, aren’t you?”

“Call it even?” Bucky asked. “Alright, fine. Hotwire the car.”

“It’s really the least HYDRA can do by ruining this road trip,” Clint mumbled.

Bucky helped Clint get onto his feet, Clint feeling a little more unsteady than what he had been expecting. Bucky walked him over to a car and sat him down. Once Clint looked settled, Bucky had moved on, leaving Clint to do the work. It took a few minutes, but the engine roared to life and Clint let himself fall back into the seat and breathe, closing his eyes.

Clint climbed out of the car when Bucky came back. Wordlessly, Clint walked to the other side, pushed the seat back as far as it could go before he got in, He leaned the seat back and climbed in, making himself comfortable. Bucky got Clint taken care of, helping him lean the seat before he got into the driver’s seat and took off. Clint lolled his head to the side, watching the landscape. Occasionally Bucky would ask him something of little importance, usually right when Clint closed his eyes, and Clint responded back with as few words as he could. He knew Bucky was making sure he stayed awake, probably worried about a concussion which Clint was sure he had.

Clint nearly jumped when the GPS went off and he looked over at Bucky with a questioning look. “Found a safehouse- we are taking advantage of it.”

“Safehouse,” Clint muttered, looking back out the window. “Who set it up?”

“New S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Bucky answered. Clint snorted and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what exactly your problem is, but you look like you could collapse at any moment, and I could use some down time from you and from this.” Clint smiled a little more and remained silent. “Okay, what is it? What smartass thing do you have to say this time?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Clint answered. “I just think it’s funny. New S.H.I.E.L.D.. Probably the same bullshit.”

“You’re just pissy and want to watch the world burn,” Bucky shot back. “You’re mad at how everything collapsed down around you and you didn’t see it coming. You’re mad that no one came looking for you when the dust started to clear.”

“You got me pegged,” Clint laughed, tapping his nose. “I want to watch the world burn so bad I took down a few organizations on my personal war path. I am so mad that everyone is back together that when I was asked to come back to New York I told Tony to piss of.”

“That’s because you’re scared,” Bucky said.”You’re scared this is a trap, and you have no one to trust. You’re scared of what people are going to think of you. So you are running from all your problems. Something I am told you are really good at.”

“Bet you could have read that for free off if my S.H.I.E.L.D. file,” Clint said, keeping his emotions at bay. “What was it my therapist said? Something about a need to feel loved or some shit?” Bucky hummed, a noise that made Clint envision slamming Bucky’s head into the steering wheel. “I know enough about myself to realize all my faults. I’ll own them. I also know that whoever set up this safehouse kept it the same as the old safehouse, so how safe is that?”

“... you don’t know where we are heading?”

“Want to put a bet on that?” Clint asked. “Because I bet you whoever Stevie has working on that side of keeping agents safe just figured they could reuse spots.” Bucky looked over, his brows furrowed. “That’s right, I know Steve is spearheading the whole revamping. I also know we are going to-” Clint had to think about it before he rattled off an address. Bucky looked away, chewing his lip. “I  _ told _ you. I know things. I have connections. And what I don’t know, I can learn.”

“How?” Bucky asked.

“I have very loose morals at times,” Clint answered. “I stalk an agent, politely flirt, buy them drinks, take them back to a hotel room and, well, people talk when they feel comfortable. I can make people feel very comfortable if I want to.”

Bucky didn’t look amused by this knowledge. He changed his grip on the steering wheel, kept his eyes on the road ahead. Clint was pretty sure it was something Natasha would have told Bucky if he asked for advice, even Tony. It was common knowledge on the Avengers roster that Clint used a whole lot of tricks in order to attain what he needed to. It was skills Clint learned before he joined S.H.I.E.L.D., and it helped him throughout his career.

Clint started to smile a little and lolled his head closer to Bucky. “I could try to make you feel more- hey!” Bucky reached a hand out and was moving Clint’s head away from him. “So that’s a no? Don’t want me to make you feel comfortable?”

Bucky pulled off to the side of the road, taking his phone from the holder and holding it out to Clint. “If our safehouse is at risk of not being safe… you know where we can go. Plug it in.” Clint stared at the phone. “We good or not?” Bucky snapped.

“Calm down,” Clint said, pushing the phone back to Bucky. “It's either your place or a hotel. I don’t have safehouses here, and I don’t have a connection to one.” Bucky eyed Clint. “... fine.” Clint sighed and plugged an address in and turned on the route before he made himself comfortable. “Natasha’s safehouse. We’re the only ones who know about it.”

“Thank you.” Bucky put his phone back into the holder and took off. “You done being an asshole for the moment?”

“For the moment. I’m tired,” Clint answered.

The car fell quiet again. Most of the ride, Clint felt bad for Bucky. If Clint were a gambler, he’d bet that Bucky was the one who drew the short end straw. The whole thought behind his old friends drawing straws to see who would go get Clint made him feel a little queasy, a little lonely, but Clint tried to push that thought aside. He was cracking inappropriate jokes to a guy he didn’t know, a guy that likely didn’t deserve Clint’s bullshit, and then he had to push it more to make him as uncomfortable as he could, and for what reason? Because the guy guessed right that Clint felt raw still from finding out some of his work had aided the very people he vowed to take down, and because Bucky  _ knew _ that Clint hated the idea that no one who he knew cared enough to be the ones to wrangle him in. That the people who claimed they knew him best sent an unknown threat in to bring Clint back. All of that stung so of course he had to put that seed of doubt into the safehouse just to make Bucky feel a little uncomfortable.

Clint thought about apologizing, even opened his mouth a few times so that maybe he could get the words out. Each time he ended up remaining silent- it was probably the best gift he could have given Bucky anyway. They weren’t friends, no where close even- Clint was Bucky’s mission and Clint just wanted out of the picture. He didn’t owe Bucky anything.

They pulled up to the house that Clint hadn’t seen in years. About two months ago, when Clint was having a particularly rough day, he had thought about driving to this house and calling Natasha, begging for someone to pick him up. He knew he would be safe there until someone came to pull him out from his misery. He had decided against it, just like he had the handful of other times throughout his three year journey when he thought that maybe he could deal with whatever the government charged him with; each time he picked himself up, pulled himself together, and avoided calling anyone.

“Do I need to handcuff you?” Bucky asked.

“No.”

“You got a key to enter?”

“There’s a retina scan at the east entrance, figured I’d uncover it and use that, disable alarms,” Clint answered. Bucky nodded and parked the car.

Clint took a deep breath and got out. He didn’t bother helping with any of the bags in the back, opting to head straight into the house. He didn’t need Bucky breathing down his neck, and he knew that was coming soon enough. Clint found the camouflage tech in the same worn spot it had always been in and made his way inside to disable any further alarms.

The house smelled like someone had come through and cleaned it in the last month or two. The amount of dust seemed minimal and there wasn’t a thin layer on the ground. Regardless, Clint looked through the rooms, his eyes starting to tear up. They had some good memories in his house from the few times they were in Japan together. Clint could remember getting piss drunk playing Twister, the two of them giggling over the stupidest things. He could remember holding Natasha on the couch as she slept off her injuries, Clint too scared to leave her alone for the first few hours before he pulled himself together.

Clint licked his lips and rubbed his face, trying to block out all the emotions of the place as he flipped lights on. He walked to a cabinet in a side bathroom and checked the prescriptions before he found one that was, somehow, still within shelf life. Before he could shake the bottle, a metal hand swatted it away and the pills went flying everywhere.

“... okay but when you tell this story, you’re telling the guys I tried to take pain meds,” Clint said.

“I’ve got meds on me you can take,” Bucky said, walking past and through the house.

Clint rolled his head back and looked at the ceiling. All the things he thought in the car? How he felt sorry for Bucky Barnes? That moment had passed. “Fine but I’m not cleaning up the mess-” Clint flinched back and smacked Bucky’s arm away. “The hell you think you’re doing?” Clint asked, swatting away the other arm then jumping back. He darted to the kitchen then jumped on top of the island. “What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“Get down from there.”

“Bitch, I will climb up on top of that fridge,” Clint snapped. “What are you doing?”

“Handcuffs.”

“Yeah, fuck off, ask next time,” Clint shouted. “Christ, I just-” Bucky put a hand on the counter and Clint slammed his boot down next to his hand, making Bucky flinch back. “Will you quit?” Bucky glared up at him. “I’m taking a shower. You’re making us food. After that you can do whatever the hell you want with me.”

“And I should just believe that you-” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Did you get stabbed and didn’t tell me?”

“Oh,  _ that  _ part of my file you didn’t read,” Clint said flatly. “We good now? You going to use murder arm to grab me?”

“Stop calling it a murder arm,” Bucky said with a hiss. Clint only shrugged. “Do you need a hospital?”

“I need a shower,” Clint said decisively.

It wasn’t like Bucky couldn’t have jumped up there to pull Clint down; Bucky easily could have snatched Clint and forced him into handcuffs before most of this conversation happened. However, he took a deep breath and took a few steps back.

“Fine, take a shower. If that turns into an infection you’re going to the hospital.”

Clint jumped down from the island and didn’t move, observing Bucky. Bucky took a few steps back, giving Clint an opening. Clint nodded and edged himself around the island before he found the stairs. He was waiting for the trap, for Bucky to slam into him, but none of that came.

“Clint.” Clint paused three-fourths of the way up the stairs and turned, looking down at the base of the stairs. “We need to have a talk after we eat.”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint answered before he turned back around and pushed himself back up the stairs.

Clint stripped down the clothes on him, and he looked into the mirror. He looked worn and pale, his face smudged with dirt. He sniffled and turned, looking at the cut on his side, his fingers gently poking a few inches from around the wound, his face scrunching up. It didn’t look too awful deep, the bleeding had already stopped. He figured he could clean it and put a simple bandage over it and be done. The burn marks from the Inhuman looked a little more concerning. It was a mixture of first and second degree burns and he knew cleaning the skin in those areas was likely to feel a little on the painful side.

Clint hesitated before he turned around and got a good look at his back. It was as bruised as he thought it would be, his shoulders and upper back taking the brunt of the damage. Turning back, he went down every rib, testing everything out before he sat down and touched his knee. All things considered, Clint felt lucky. The last two days or so could have gone worse than they had.

From the second the hot water hit him, Clint moaned and slumped forward, the last bits of adrenaline Clint had been clinging to leaving his body. The shower in his apartment had been shit- the water never seemed to get hot enough, and the pressure tended to be a drizzle at best. This was super charged, one of those heads you could change for intensity, which Clint took full advantage of. He turned it to the strongest setting, the first felt pelts warning him that he was going to be in more pain than what it would be worth before he took it down a notch or two. He let the water cascade over him before he washed the grime out of his hair. He probably scrubbed himself clean twice over before his legs gave out and he sat in the bottom of the tub, leaning back carefully.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed everyone until this past day. He missed spending hours on end in Tony’s lab, asking questions about anything and everything. He missed playing cards with Steve and Natasha, even if Steve declared them cheaters. He missed Thor’s booming laugh, and the gentle way Bruce talked to Clint when Clint felt like the world was crashing down around him. Clint missed having his family unit around him, supportive and warm; Clint had never expected to have something like that in his life, and he had wanted to hold onto it when he had it.

He thought that if Bucky and Tony were telling the truth that maybe he could actually see them all again. Maybe he could put everything behind him, act like the last three years didn’t happen, and everything could be fine. But that little thread of doubt strummed in his mind, reminding him of the little lies and deceptions used over the years, making him shy away from the thought. But he wanted to- he wanted it more than anything. He was so tired of everything. He was tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of having to make plans. He had been running solo for three years, and it was taking its toll finally. 

After he settled into the tub, his feet washed after a brief struggle to pull them up, Clint closed his eyes. He was relatively safe at the moment- he didn’t think Bucky was actually that bad of a person. The whole New York stuff could wait a minute; he could let himself heal a little, rest up before he put up a fight again. And hell if the water wasn’t luring him away to that sleepy, comfortable headspace. He figured there was nothing wrong with breathing in the air for a bit, letting his mind relax.

Hands were on him, jerking him from his state, or maybe he had fallen asleep; Clint could have sworn he only closed his eyes for a minute. He caught a load of blue eyes, a worried expression before he felt someone pulling him up to his feet. Clint didn’t bother to fight it, instead going with the flow of being handed a towel before being pulled out into a hallway, a chill settling in. He forgot just how much everything hurt until he was in motion again and he wished he would have just stayed in the tub.

It took barely any thought process. First there was someone helping him into very loose sweatpants, maybe even two sizes too big with how they threatened to come off his hips. Next came a tank top, which had him screwing up his face when he had to move his shoulders. Clint finally got a good look at Bucky and offered him a wobbly sort of smile before he rocked forward. Clint took a few steps back and his legs hit a bed before he sat down.  _ One minute _ Bucky mouthed before he left the room. Clint watched him for all of two seconds before he laid down and turned, finding a pillow and burying his face against it. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Clint woke up feeling a whole lot of different things. He felt stiff and sore, but he was lacking the headache he had the day before. He felt warm and soft, pinned up against something that was radiating so much heat it was threatening to lull Clint back to sleep. Despite feeling like he wasn’t going to have an enjoyable day when it came to getting up, Clint felt refreshed in a way that was rejuvenating in an odd sense.

Until fingers brushed against his arm. His back seized up and his eyes flew open as he reached up and grabbed the wrist, cooler than he expected. His eyes locked with Bucky’s and they both were still in their spots until Clint’s hands lowered from Bucky. Bucky held a finger up and turned, carefully taking Clint’s hearing aids off the nightstand and holding them out. Clint took them and eased himself into the day, into hearing. Bucky didn’t seem to protest as he looked at the television.

“... am I naked?” Clint asked after a moment, noticing he certainly didn’t have a shirt on. He went to lift the covers and Bucky took his hand and lowered it.

“No. You were out cold so I took the opportunity to apply ice packs, then heating packs, and then a wrap. After that, I consulted with Dr Cho on how to treat the burns, none of which she was too concerned about, and I wrapped them lightly. I’m trying to make sure you feel better faster,” Bucky answered. “Thank you for assuming I’d be lounging here all casually with you naked though.”

“Uh huh. And uh- why are you in bed with me?” Clint asked.

“Only bed in the basement,” Bucky answered simply. “Anyway, figured since I’ve already seen you naked, we kinda got over the awkward hump.”

“Seen me-” Clint started to say before he groaned and turned over. “I haven’t had enough sleep or caffeine in the world to deal with this.”

“Speaking of- I am heading out of the house,” Bucky said, getting up. “Called Natasha- this place comes with some cool little tricks. You’re limited to this room. Hope you don’t mind, but I moved you from upstairs to the basement.”

“You did what now?” Clint asked, turning back around, Bucky already halfway up the stairs. “Hey! You can’t leave me down here! What if there is a fire?”

“Don’t breathe? Don’t die?” Bucky offered in the most unhelpful manner. “You’ll be fine. Watch some television. Behave. Rest even. Don’t really care what you do, as long as you stay contained.” 

Clint heard the door close and the click that sent his stomach into knots. Clint sat up more in bed, trying to tell his heart to stop panicking.  _ It could be worse. It could be someone way worse _ . No matter how many times Clint repeated that, his head didn’t really want to pay attention. He got out of bed, his knee throbbing, but he checked around the room. It had a bathroom, which was at least a bonus, but there were no windows, no exits- no escape. Clint wished he would have remembered this small detail, which was in fact a large one.

With a heavy sigh, Clint stumbled his way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The burns were all wrapped up with just as much care as his side was. Clint pulled back the bandage just a little and was happy to discover that Bucky must have agreed that stitches would have been excessive. Once he used the bathroom, Clint sat down on the bed and ran his hands through his hair, settling them behind his neck. He wasn’t in a good position, and any way he shook it, his means for anything was dependent on Bucky. Clint was stuck in a no-win situation.

_ Unless _ . Clint chewed on his lip, studying his feet. Unless he could figure out a way to make Bucky comfortable with him. It was a long shot, the guy didn’t particularly seem like the type of guy who would fall for anything too quick. But if Clint could slowly play the game, maybe he could make it so Bucky accidentally tripped up. It was exactly the thing he shouldn’t do in case he ever wanted to see the team again, but it was exactly the kind of thing he needed to do if he wanted to avoid seeing everyone until he was ready.

_ There is no way he will fall for it _ . Clint had admitted before that he liked to find ways to make people comfortable, there was no way Bucky could be dense enough to fall for it. Bucky was a world class assassin and those were skills that couldn’t easily be erased. Then again- there had to be a broken part of Bucky still left behind that Clint could exploit. Something that Clint could weave into a story, something Clint could tug at carefully until Bucky bent to with slowly applied pressure.

He felt like an asshole for even considering that option. Clint ducked his head and held it, pulling on his hair. He already had so much he regretted, adding to that list would surely push him over the edge he had been so careful to avoid. His friends were off limits- he never wanted to do anything to hurt them. And while he wasn’t friends with Bucky, Bucky was friends with everyone Clint cherished, and that couldn’t end well for him in the whole forgiveness department.

The door upstairs unlocked and Clint raised his head to look that way. Bucky slowly descended, the smell of coffee slowly wafting into the air. Clint’s mouth watered and he offered Bucky a weak smile. “Please tell me that is for me.”

“A few things are,” Bucky answered, dropping a bag on the bed next to him before he held out a container filled with coffee. “We need to talk.”

“You sure?” Clint asked, taking the coffee. He took a deep breath to breathe it in before he saw Bucky focusing on Clint’s shoulder and he glanced over at the bruise. Clint frowned and looked back. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Clint shook his head before he tilted it to the side. Bucky backed up until he was leaning against the wall. “I was warned you were going to be a pain in the ass and yet I didn’t manage to keep my cool when you had a knife and went for the gun.”

“Water under the bridge,” Clint muttered.

“It’s not,” Bucky said firmly. “I should have done a better job de-escalating the situation instead of unintentionally hurting you. Although, in all fairness, the bed was on it’s last leg.”

“Excuse me?” Clint asked before he opened the bag and looked at the wrapped burger.

“Once you were out cold, I tested the other bed in the room,” Bucky explained. Clint blinked and Bucky’s face turned read. “I might have jumped on the other bed three times before it caved,” he mumbled under his breath.

Clint stared at Bucky in awe before he laughed, doubling over. “Christ, to be a fly on that wall.” Clint pulled the burger out of the bag and partially unwrapped it. “It’s not like I’m blameless in the situation.”

“You were scared and looking for a way out,” Bucky pointed out.

“Can you maybe stop describing me as scared? It’s kinda beating up my ego here,” Clint said before he took a bite from the burger. “Almost as good as In-N-Out.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow before he smiled gently. “Listen, I’m not here to beat you up and drug you, or knock you out. I don’t want that to be how we relate to each other. I would rather we learn how to get along, be civil.”

“While forcing me to do something I don’t want to do,” Clint pointed out.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Bucky answered. Clint’s confidence wavered and he took another bite from the burger. “I know two sides of you, the side HYDRA informed me of, and the side your friends know. And out of all the friends, there was one friend who I completely trust to give me an inside look at you.”

Clint looked down. “Natasha.”

“Natasha,” Bucky agreed. “And you know as well as I do that she would do just about anything for you, including hiding you if she could. I think she agrees with everyone else- you have been gone too long.”

Clint looked back up and felt his emotions burst through his chest. “And yet not a single one of them is here, are they?” he asked, trying to reign in his tone and volume. “No, instead they sent you.”

Bucky held a hand up. “I’m not disagreeing. Natasha wanted to be the one to be here. She would have been the easier option, right? Because no matter what happened those few days, it was always you two against the world.” Clint swallowed and blinked rapidly, willing the tears to just fall so he could get over with it. “Natasha had to go somewhere else, take on a different mission that was suited for her talents. I opted to come here after you.”

Clint coughed out a laugh. “You opted to come for me,” he said in clear disbelief.

Bucky let his hand fall, not attempting to take a step forward or towards the stairs. He seemed calm, cool under the circumstances. “I wanted a chance to meet the person who everyone valued before the chaos that is being an Avenger took over and I wouldn’t get this chance again.” Clint’s jaw dropped and he hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “You want to know what I’ve learned?”

“No. You keep that shit to yourself,” Clint said grumpily.

“Fair enough.” Bucky took a step forward. “When you are ready to talk more, I’m here. We are grounded for a few days. I want to make sure the HYDRA fiasco blows over. Anyway, that gives you more time to get back on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Clint gritted out.

“I’m sure you are.”

“You don’t have to be-” Clint started to snap.

“I’m sorry.” Clint choked on the words stuck in his throat and he gripped the edge of the mattress. “I didn’t mean for it to sound condescending or that I am mocking you.” Clint heard him walk further away, and he guessed towards the door. “I’m sorry I made you upset. But now is the perfect time for you to explore your emotions.”

“Fuck you and this emotional shit,” Clint said.

Bucky chuckled as he climbed the stairs. “Classic Clint from what I’m told.”

Clint held his breath and glared at the ground. Screw being a nice guy- Clint was going to use every trick in the book to pull a fast one on Bucky and get the hell away from all of this.

Clint was changing the bandages on his burns, checking them over carefully as he did so. He heard the door upstairs open and Clint shifted his weight and pivoted his hips so he could face the door. Bucky walked into sight, his steps faltering before he continued his approach.

“Good morning,” Bucky greeted.

“Morning.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“Like a prisoner being held in a basement,” Clint mused with a grin before he looked back into the mirror, leaning in to check his neck. “Other than that, fairly normal.”

“I’m not feeling even an ounce of remorse for locking you in the basement,” Bucky said with amusement, leaning in the doorframe. “I slept like a baby last night knowing you were safely tucked away and I wouldn’t have to track your ass down today.”

“So little trust,” Clint said with a pout. “I’m hurt.”

“No you’re not,” Bucky snorted. “I have something for you. It’s upstairs.” Bucky turned and walked, putting his hands in his pockets. 

Clint leaned back, watching Bucky for as long as he could. He looked back at the mirror with a perplexed expression, his fingers tapping on the sink before he finished what he was doing. He was suspicious to say the least.

Clint pulled a shirt on as he walked up the stairs, nearly tripping on his sweatpants. He tried not to linger on the fact that Clint had left a stash of clothes here years ago, just in case he ever needed it. He was thankful for that forethought because the soft looseness made him feel a little more comfortable, a little more grounded. Clint paused before he peeked his head around the bend, looking in the kitchen.

“Calm down, no one is going to jump you,” Bucky commented. “Just us here.”

“Funny thing. Last time someone said that, it was definitely not just me and Tony,” Clint said hesitantly. “... is the big surprise breakfast?”

“No, but I figured that you  _ do _ eat,” Bucky answered with a smirk. “Unless, of course, something has happened to turn you into a robot. Don’t tell me you are a LMD.”

“I’m… no,” Clint answered. He shuffled over to the island and pulled a chair out, looking around.

Bucky put a plate down and slid it over. Eggs, sausage, pancakes, toast- Clint didn’t move a muscle as he looked down at the meal. The next thing to bet set in his sights was a glass of milk along with syrup. Clint looked up, clenching his jaw.

“Is this an apology breakfast?” Clint asked carefully.

“I already apologized for what I did, I’m not lingering on it,” Bucky answered. “It's breakfast. That’s all.”

“Why?”

Bucky’s hands landed on the island and he leaned over. “I’m not following. What do you mean why? Why did I make breakfast? Because we both eat. It doesn’t have to be complicated, Clint. Not everything has to be some kind of mind game.” He didn’t sound angry or upset- Clint wasn’t sure how he sounded even.

Clint shifted in his seat and looked back down at the food. “Is it poisoned? Drugged?”

Bucky groaned before he chuckled. “Oh, you are a treat,” he said, walking away from the island. 

Clint looked up, Bucky’s back to him as he started making fresh pancakes. It didn’t add up in his head. Just a day or two ago they were fighting, snapping at each other. Clint had been rude, snarky, made comments trying to get under Bucky’s skin. Now Bucky was acting like nothing happened, like they were friends, and Clint wasn’t sure what the game plan was. 

No, he knew what the plan was. It was the same when he first met Coulson- he was trying to pull the same game on Clint that Clint was trying to pull on him. He  _ had _ to be. There was no other explanation.

“Clint?” Clint dragged his eyes back to Bucky. “Eat your food before it gets cold. You are overthinking this whole thing.”

Clint looked down and his hand hovered over his fork. Food couldn’t hurt him- Clint could handle food. He could still play this all in his favor. He just needed to keep up the distrust act until it paid off from him to act like he trusted the situation. It was  _ fine _ . Clint carefully cut the eggs and took a bite and leaned away.

He was usually the one who cooked in safe houses. Natasha was a terrible cook, making only the most basic foods there were. And the other STRIKE team members took turns but Clint enjoyed cooking after missions. He liked having something to do, something to keep his hands busy. Even when he was an Avenger Clint would sometimes take hours to cook family meals and baked goods just for movie night. It was something Clint could do, and he could do it well enough where no one was in danger of food poisoning, unlike when Steve and Tony cooked.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him food. The closest was Natasha, who would reheat soup from him, or pour it out from a can. Maybe it was when he was married to Bobbi- Bobbi knew how to cook. Or maybe it was four years ago when he had dated that one guy- what the hell was his name anyway?

“You look like you want to burst into tears,” Bucky commented, taking a seat.

“I’m not going to burst into tears,” Clint muttered.

“You are forgetting a key factor here,” Bucky said, taking a bite from his toast. Clint glanced his way and at his stupid smile. “Super soldier. I need a lot of food. Which means I cook too much. And who doesn’t like breakfast food? No one.” Bucky looked away from Clint and scooped his eggs onto his toast.

“Thank you,” Clint mumbled before he tucked into his meal. He tucked away his thoughts, carefully masking it all with a small smile. “Congrats on not burning the pancakes.”

Buckle leaned over a little, talking out of the side of his mouth. “Believe it or not, it’s one of the things I remember how to do before I fell from a train and got a shiny new arm.”

Clint put his chin on top of his hand, his fork dangling between his fingers. “I… really don’t know how to take that comment. Like I can’t really make fun of it, which is a damn shame. And I’m not sure I should ask about it.”

“Ask about my arm or pancakes?” Bucky asked.

“Uh- both?” Clint went with.

Bucky shook his head and looked away. “You’re really terrible at this stuff, aren’t you?” he asked before he grabbed his own glass of milk and drank it.

“Pal, you have no idea,” Clint said before he went back to his food.

They ate in silence after that, neither making an attempt to breach the quiet moment. Clint poked at the pancakes before he took a bite. They weren’t bad- they weren’t his favorite in the world, but they weren’t terrible either. By the time Clint was done poking at his food, Bucky was done eating. Clint observed him as he got up and walked to a drawer, pulling out a binder and sliding it over to Clint, the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on top.

Clint looked up from it. “What’s this?”

“Tony’s proposal,” Bucky said. “Plus some things you aren’t going to like as much. But this is Tony’s proposal to get you out of serving any jail time. Same deal he had given others.”

“House arrest involved?” Clint asked.

“If you want to call it that,” Bucky answered. “You’d have to stay at the Tower for a minimum of a year, released only for missions. But I don’t think the Tower should count as house arrest- it has pools and shit.”

Clint smiled a little at that. “Three to be exactly. Tony thought he could hide the third one.”

“No shit?”

“It's in a dead zone space,” Clint answered. “Floor thirteen? Yeah, you have to take the access stairs from floor twelve to get there, but it’s there.”

Bucky whistled and collected the dishes. “Somehow… that makes sense.” He started to fill the sink with water and suds, sliding the dishes in carefully. “Anyway, you need to go through it, make your decision.”

“I thought you were dragging me back?”

“Oh, I am still dragging you back,” Bucky commented, turning the water off and turning around, his back against the sink. “But this tells me how terrible dragging you back is going to be. Are we going to laugh, or am I in for a treat?”

“Either way you’re in for a treat,” Clint answered, smiling when Bucky smiled at him and turned back around. “What does it matter to you, anyway?” he asked. “You don’t know me. What does it matter to you if I actually go back or not? Why not just let me slip off into the night?”

“Currently it doesn’t matter to me,” Bucky answered. “Honestly, I don’t give a rats ass what you do with your life. But it matters to a whole lot of people who matter to me. That and I don’t like failing missions. Only did it three times in seventy years and there’s a reason for that.”

“I… don’t want to know,” Clint said slowly. “My imagination will probably do the trick.” Bucky nodded before he busied himself with the dishes. 

Clint watched Bucky with a pang of sadness before he looked down at the binder. He opened it up and flipped to the first tabbed section and stopped, his heart racing a bit. He knew that chicken scratch, the hurried way it was written and crossed off as if the mind was going quicker than his hand allowed. He flipped the page before he looked down at the neater handwriting with a slight tilt to it, recognizing that as well. Clint’s chest tightened and he flipped again, this time to wonky cursive before Clint closed the binder and pushed it away from him.

“I warned you that you might not like some of it,” Bucky commented without even having to turn around.

“Are you  _ trying _ to make me have a mental breakdown?” Clint asked, the room starting to get a weird tilt to it. He reached out and grasped the island. “Shit.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said. “You can always skip the letters.” Clint hadn’t heard Bucky move, flinching when Bucky’s hand gripped the back of Clint’s neck. He pulled his hand away. “I understand what you are feeling.”

“Sure ya do,” Clint muttered.

Bucky pulled a chair out again and sat facing Clint. Clint glanced up before he tried to focus on the binder. “When I didn’t return to HYDRA, after the mess with Steve- I was on the run too. I was doing what I needed to in order to survive. It wasn’t easy.”

“Yours was worse,” Clint muttered. “I  _ know _ how much of a fuck up I am. I didn’t have to figure any of that out.”

“Not here to play the who has the worst trauma game,” Bucky said firmly. “What I am trying to say is, I can understand why you can’t trust anything around you, not even your friends. You’ve been used and abused just as I have but in a different way. You’re tired of giving everything another shot, another chance because each time you do it feels like something gets ripped away again. But you found yourself in this family.” Bucky tapped the binder and tilted his head towards it. “And while families fight and they can definitely be the first ones to hurt you, they’re also the same ones that can build you back up.”

Bucky got up and patted Clint’s back carefully before he went back to the sink. He was humming a tune that Clint felt like he should know. Carefully, Clint picked himself up off the seat and considered his options. He looked around the downstairs space before his eyes locked on the basement door. It was the safest option- he could be alone and in the quiet down there. He could try to push away all the messy emotions that were threatening to bubble over and try to just exist. That option sounded the most miserable of all. Instead, Clint padded over to the living room and took his hearing aids out, setting them on an end table before grabbing a pillow from the couch. He lowered himself to the ground with a few grunts and groaned before he found a spot where the sunlight danced in his vision before he closed his eyes.

It was day one of his plan and he was already losing the battle.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint knew he needed to change tactics as he stared up at the basement ceiling, five days into the stay at the new safehouse. There were several attempts made by Bucky to try to get Clint to open up and talk about things. He was playing to Clint’s need to have people around him, to feel needed, loved, and to not let those people down. He was trying to win over Clint’s trust, which Clint knew he could play at. It was a dangerous road to go down- Clint knew he could easily be suckered in by the promises of being able to be around everyone again. But if it was something Bucky could exploit, maybe by giving in it could speed up the whole process a lot faster.

The problem was- it was working. Everything Bucky was trying to do was keeping Clint up at night as he tried to make sense of everything. Despite first impressions, Bucky had soft edges and was warm in an odd sort of way. Sometimes he looked like he was battling his own demons but he pushed past it with a smile when Clint approached him. Maybe he was the world’s best liar, but something told Clint he was being genuine whenever he spoke about the team and how Clint wasn’t walking into a trap. While Clint wanted to hate how comfortable he was becoming around Bucky, he didn’t want to pull himself away from it either.

Clint knew he shouldn’t buy into the pretty promises and the safe feeling he got. He had been burned enough times already to know he was letting his psychological needs take the wheel. But somewhere along the way he started to trust some of the things Bucky said and hoped that he wasn’t being putty in someone else’s hands again. He wanted to hold onto that feeling, and he wanted Bucky to do something to break it so Clint could prove he was right all along not to take Bucky for his word.

The basement door opened and Clint groaned, covering his face with his forearm. He had avoided Bucky for breakfast, claiming he wasn’t hungry. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to get out of eating lunch as well. Instead of heavy boots coming down the stairs, Clint heard only the creaking noise.

“Ready for lunch?”

“If I say no… what is going to be the response?” Clint asked.

“Me bringing the food down here for you to eat,” Bucky answered. “Same as yesterday. Do you really want to eat down here again?” It was tempting, but Clint forced himself to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “We move tomorrow, by the way.”

“So soon?” Clint asked innocently. He hadn’t factored in moving just yet- that helped improve his odds of escape.

“America is waiting, remember?” Bucky asked before he turned around and climbed up the stairs. Clint groaned and followed. He stopped and looked at the pizza boxes and he was pretty sure if he didn’t keep his mouth closed, he’d be drooling.

“I’m changing my approach,” Bucky said, grabbing two plates and handing one off to Clint. “You don’t want to talk? That’s fine. We don’t have to talk. But there has to be some way for me to convince you that this is a good decision.”

“And you thought pizza was it?”

“No… Natasha did,” Bucky answered. Clint narrowed his eyes briefly before he grabbed a few slices. “She said the whole talking approach wouldn’t work with you because you don’t know me. Apparently you are shockingly against talking, even though you do so much of it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Clint said cheerfully, grabbing a glass of water. God, he wished this house had coffee in it.

“So there has to be something I can do to make you realize that no one is going to hurt you or betray you,” Bucky said. 

“... can we start with-”

“If you say let me go I am going to drown you in the bathtub,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

Clint raised an eyebrow, holding a slice of pizza up towards his mouth and pausing. “You have been dreaming of drowning me in the bathtub, haven’t you?”

“I would do it in the sink but you’re tall and your legs would be a challenge,” Bucky answered.

Clint sighed and looked at his pizza. “You bought me pizza, that’s a start. And there isn’t any pineapple on it.” Bucky gave a knowing hum, his head tilting back and forth. It was  _ almost  _ cute and Clint hated Bucky a little for it. He looked like one of those puppies that curiously tilted their heads at new noises. “You have Natasha on speed dial, don’t you?” Clint asked and groaned when Bucky nodded enthusiastically. “I like you better when you were threatening to drown me in the bathtub.”

“Still could happen, buddy,” Bucky said with a grin.

Clint ate his pizza then looked over at the television that was on in the living room. He loved Japanese game shows- they were quirky as hell. He noticed a book on the table, something Bucky must have been reading and tried to remember to look into it after he was full. He then looked outside as the rain came down and smiled a little, knowing what he was going to do with his afternoon.

“So I’ve got a question, and you don’t have to answer it,” Bucky said. Clint looked back over to him. “What is with the Ronin thing anyway? For someone who wants to hide and steer clear of people, you sure made yourself a target.”

“I get bored,” Clint answered easily enough. “I get bored, and then it makes me think. So I need a task to focus on. I’m only doing something I’m good at. Anyway, I didn’t intend for this to happen, not on this large a scale. Someone I knew needed help, and I guess… old habits die hard.”

Bucky nodded his approval. “You realize a lot of people had their sights on you, right?”

“HYDRA tried to recruit me twice in the last three years,” Clint answered as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They didn’t know who I was, only that I was skilled. Once it was in Malaysia, once here in Japan. They’re dead though. The first one because he actually landed a shot and it hurt. The second because-” Clint sighed and wiped his hands on the napkin. “The second one was an old S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. I worked with him a handful of times. He was the Japanese man- took him down while at a fake charity gala that was selling women under the table.”

Bucky leaned forward. “That was seriously  _ you _ ?” he asked. Clint frowned in confusion. “We thought it was Ronin because of the calling card. But we also thought that maybe it was the work of a whole organization because of the scale. That was the day before I picked you up, right?” he asked. Clint nodded very carefully. “Holy shit, that was attractive,” Bucky breathed.

“What?” Clint asked, taken back by the comment.

“I get it- I run with the Avengers now and we are kind of an everybody lives kinda group,” Bucky said. “But the style, and knowing it was only one person accomplishing the task? That’s attractive.” Clint didn’t make a single move, watching Bucky instead. He felt thrown off, confused, not sure if he needed to run or not. “Oh please, you can’t tell me you have never seen someone do something and just thought it was insanely attractive.”

Clint couldn’t lie- he had seen it a dozen or so times. He  _ worked _ with people that did attractive stunts every day. So Clint nodded before he shrugged. “I guess I never so boldly declared it.” Clint then smiled. “Okay, so that’s a lie. I did. Natasha hit me for it. We were working a case together and this lady- she was a bit on the messed up side-”

“Obviously,” Bucky interjected.

“Obviously,” Clint agreed. “Anyway, we were just about out of the labs and she exploded our exit. I mean-” Clint dramatized the explosion with his hands, completely with sound effects and all. “And we were both tired, ready to be done. We turned around and looked at her and it just slipped. That’s hot. Natasha smacked me right there and then, and then the whole way to the safehouse screamed at me in Russian. I  _ know _ Russian, but she was talking so fast I didn’t know what she was saying.” Bucky was laughing at this point, his face screwed up in delight and Clint's stomach fluttered. Clint bit back the emotion that he didn’t need to be having. “So yeah, I guess I get that. Kinda have a lab kink too.” That was something Clint wasn’t expecting to admit and he felt his eyes go wide from it escaping his mouth. Stupid brain.

“A what?” Bucky asked, still smiling something wide and inviting.

“You can’t tell  _ anyone _ ,” Clint stressed. “Not even Natasha.” Bucky nodded a little, his smile pulling back. “Tony and Bruce? When they are doing their smart stuff in the labs? It’s… uh-” Clint tilted his head.

“Attractive?” Bucky asked.

“Yep.”

Bucky grinned and folded his arms out on the table. “And since Bruce and Tony do completely different things, it can’t be that sometimes Tony gets all greased up.” Clint scrunched his nose up. “Interesting. Hey, there are worse, right?” he asked.

“You aren’t sharing much,” Clint pointed out. “I literally just pointed out Tony and Bruce got that smart talk swagger that is attractive. Your turn.”

“Doll, I can’t even get drunk enough to have this conversation appropriately.”

“Lucky for me, I can. When does that part of today start?” Clint asked and smiled when Bucky laughed. “Just kidding. No one needs that.”

“Might have to consider it now,” Bucky teased before he leaned back. “Alright. So action kink,” he said, pointing between the two of them. “Praise kink,” he added, pointing to Clint, “along with a… whatever that is. Lab kink? Like… scientist kink? Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Who the hell taught you kink?” Clint mused, drinking his water.

“The internet. It’s a terrible place,” Bucky answered breezily. “Hmmm. Alright. Something about the team?” Clint nodded. “... Natasha’s thigh thing doesn’t count, right?”

“Nope. Everyone loves Natasha and her thigh thing. It's basically a law written by the gods,” Clint answered. “You’re stalling.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Bucky said. “Hand holding?”

Clint stared at him before he blinked. “I literally just told you that watching Tony and Bruce in the labs turns me on a bit and you come back with-” Clint stopped. “Wait, no, you know what? I want this defined. Like what do you mean, hand holding?”

“I just like the feeling I get when I’m holding someone’s hand,” Bucky answered, looking down at his empty plate.

“Like… the person you are dating?”

“We’ll go with that.”

Clint opened his mouth before movement caught his eye. Bucky was up and out of his seat first, walking to the window, Clint following behind. Four people got out of the first car and walked towards the back while a group of people were getting out of a van. Clint frowned and moved to the living room window to look out as they gathered up a huge hunk of metal and set it up, pointing it towards the house.

“So… I am going with this looking very bad,” Clint said, turning to look at Bucky. Bucky gave a single nod and moved back and away from the window, going to a closet and opening it up, “On the bright side, it’s not HYDRA. That’s a win, right?”

“Not in this case,” Bucky said. “Catch.”

Clint turned just in time and caught the red blur being thrown at him. Clint looked at it and nearly dropped it. “Ah! Why the hell do you have Cap’s shield?”

“I don’t, you do,” Bucky answered. “Just go with it, okay?”

Clint stared at Bucky before he heard an awful grinding noise outside. Clint looked back outside and ran for the door, throwing it open as he ran out. The hunk of metal was moving and shifting, uncurling as appendages sprawled out.  _ What kind of Transformers bullshit is this? _ Clint watched Bucky zip by before Clint followed suit.

“Focus on the robot,” Bucky called over to Clint.

“You would,” Clint muttered under his breath.

Ignoring Bucky for the moment, Clint swung in to lower the number of bodies on the playing field. Clint flung the shield, taking down two people in one go as she slid under the gun of a third person, wrapping an arm around him to bring him down to the ground. Clint snatched up the shield and turned before the gun went off.

“Lasers?” Clint asked. “Awww man, I love lasers!” Clint charged forward, pushing the man back before he could hook his leg around the man’s ankle and tug, causing him to fall. Clint followed through and clipped him as hard as he could with the shield before he rolled to the side, grabbing the gun in the process.

“Clint! Watch-”

Clint felt something slam into him and he tumbled forward, tucking himself to roll and pull up to his knees, crouching. The robot seemed to have it’s feet under it now, moving much quicker than it had been a minute ago. Clint was up and was playing defense, trying to keep the robot at bay. The ringing from metal against metal was making his hearing aids produce a weird vibration feedback, and Clint wanted to turn them off but he didn’t have time to. Clint kept the shield up, feeling himself being pushed back further and further.

Clint let himself get knocked down just so he could have a chance to take a look around. Bucky was in the distance still and Clint- he was closer to the house, towards the car they had parked outside. Clint frowned and didn’t see anyone nearby. They were trying to separate them.

Clint gritted his teeth at the next hit before he pushed up against it to shove the robot back, following through to go back on the offensive, trying to work his way back to Bucky. The two he had hit earlier didn’t show any signs of HYDRA activity, no AIM, no Hand members. It had to be a local gang but Clint couldn’t figure out why, unless HYDRA had seriously agreed to work with help so that they could try to stay underground.

He just needed to find the weak point. Every robot had one, and Clint was trained to pick and pull those weaknesses apart. He had handled worse than one robot, or even a small team of amateur workers. So Clint let himself get knocked down a few times, no matter how painful it was, because if he wasn’t focusing on the next move he could focus his efforts on structure and the way it moved.

_ There _ . It took a few minutes, a few too many hits, but Clint saw it. The small hitch in the system. Clint pushed himself back up to his feet and flung the shield at the robot, grinned as it reached for the shield as Clint reached for the gun. Just at it’s left side joint is where Clint saw the weak spot and exploited it. What he didn’t expect was the explosion of parts and he covered his face the best he could.

Someone kicked his ribs as he shielded his face and Clint caught the leg on the second time around and jerked it, both of them going tumbling to the ground. Clint put his hands up against the chin of the person, pushing up as hard as he could until he spotted a knife and let go, grabbing it from the man’s belt and slashing at him. 

Clint kicked him off the side and got up, stumbling away. There was a loud bang before almost everything went quiet. Clint picked the shield up and made his way over to where Bucky was sitting, catching his breath. His ears still had a weird ringing pitch to them, which he was hoping would calm down soon. Setting the shield down, Clint sat with Bucky, feeling Bucky lean over onto him. Clint closed his eyes, feeling some comfort in the action.

“I would say that was fun but… that really sucked,” Clint commented.

“Mhhh.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Clint took the chance to catch his breath and let the pain ebb through him, trying to get used to the sensation so he could push past it. Whatever meds Bucky said he had for Clint to take? Clint was going to take them without putting up a fight. 

“Bucky?” Clint asked. “Hey man, you alright?” Clint asked. 

Clint turned carefully and got his first real look at Bucky. There was a large gash on his head, his eyes slightly glazed over already which Clint hoped was from exhaustion and nothing more serious. He turned more and held Bucky up by the shoulders and heard him hiss, something wet touching Clint’s hand. Clint’s eyes widened as he pulled his hand away and saw the blood.

“Oh shit. Hey, okay, we need to get you inside,” Clint said, fear ripping through him.

“We need to leave,” Bucky mumbled.

“After we patch-”

“They will heal.” Bucky struggled to his feet, swaying a little. Clint pushed himself up, put as much steel into his steps as he could. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I believe that,” Clint answered sarcastically. “Bucky, just let me-”

“If there are more, we are fucked,” Bucky said, grabbing onto Clint’s forearms. “You hear me? We are screwed if more come. We need to leave. I will be fine- we need distance.”

Clint wanted to argue with him. Bucky looked like hell, and he knew when people were putting on brave faces enough to know what was going on. However, the thought there could be more had his on the edge. Despite knowing where the weak spot was on the last robot, that didn’t mean every robot had the same one, and Clint was positive his body couldn’t take another beating as intense as the last. Clint looked between Bucky and the metal scrap near them before he nodded. 

Clint angled himself under Bucky’s shoulder to help him along, looking around as they walked back to their stolen car. It was slow work until Clint got Bucky into the passenger side and buckled in. Bucky muttered about the shield, saying it again, much more insistent.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Clint promised. 

He left the car door open before he forced himself to jog back to the mess. He hadn’t noticed before that the blood on the battleground wasn’t all red and he sighed. He was going to have to tell someone to come clean up an alien mess before civilians found them. Clint knew they had a name- he had ran into these shapeshifters before, but his mind wasn’t providing any useful knowledge.

Clint picked up the shield, turning it in his hands to clean off some of the mess along the edges before he jogged towards the house. He had a mental list of things he needed to collect. He needed Bucky’s phone, his wallet, any weapons he could get his hands on, and a first aid kit. Lucky for him, he knew where Natasha hid her favorite knives and a gun, so he made quick work of the house. He jogged back to the car and stored everything except a gun and the first aid kit in the trunk, where three black bags were. He’d have to look into them at a later time, opting to get into the car first.

“Hey, you still with me?” Clint asked, leaning over the center console and putting a hand on Bucky’s neck lightly. “Bucky?” Bucky mumbled something. “You gotta talk louder, alright? I can’t hear a word you are saying.”

“I’m fine.” It was snappy, annoyed, and Clint was fine with it. Snappy and annoyed was better than dead- Clint was pretty sure he wouldn’t handle dead very well at this point.

“Sure you are, pal,” Clint answered. “Just… sleep it off. It’ll be okay.” Bucky nodded and turned in his seat a little. “I’m not… I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Clint started the car and started on his way. He used Bucky’s thumb to unlock the phone, Bucky not stirring. Clint took a shaky breath in and tried to focus on the road as he plugged in an address. He set the phone down and ran his hands over the steering wheel. Turning the radio up, Clint tried to get himself to calm down.

He made it an hour away before he pulled off to the side of the road. He looked at Bucky, his eyes tearing up before he turned, grabbing the first aid kit. Clint tucked a leg under his other, wincing as he did so before he opened the kit. He took a shaky breath before he started with Bucky’s face first, cleaning up the cut that already looked like it was healing up. He held it together with a few butterfly bandages before he carefully removed Bucky’s shirt and continued his way down.

When Bucky’s phone went off Clint jumped and looked down. With shaking hands, Clint turned it on speaker phone. “Hey- hey Tony.”

“ _ Clint? Hey, is everything okay? _ ”

“Not particularly,” Clint answered. “Aliens, Tony. And a fuckin’ robot Transformer looking thing, and how in the fuck is this my life?” Clint looked back at Bucky and finished patching the wound on his leg.

“ _ Are you okay? Is Bucky? _ ”

“No.” Clint climbed into the back again, looking for a sheet or a blanket and coming up empty handed. He collapsed back down in his head and looked up at the roof of the car. “Reminds me- someone should probably go to Natasha’s safehouse and put out the fire. Like S.H.I.E.L.D. or something. Aliens.”

“ _ Do you need someone to come pick you both up?” _

Clint looked at Bucky. He didn’t have a fever, his breathing was regulated, and his pulse was strong. With wounds already healing, Clint was feeling a little more confident that Bucky was going to be fine. As for himself- Clint was pretty sure there was deep bruising again, maybe a broken finger or two, but his head felt clearer than it had earlier.

“No.” Clint reached up and put a hand over his face and choked back a sob. “What am I doing, Tony?” he asked weakly.

“ _ I don’t know how to answer that,” _ Tony answered honestly. “ _ You have a flight in three days. Just stay calm, alright? Stay near Bucky. We’ll figure out the rest when you are back here. _ ”

Clint licked his lips and wiped his face from the tears he had been trying to ignore. “Yeah, alright.” He sighed. “I need to go. I need to get us somewhere before nightfall. I’m kind of… really tired.”

“ _ Be safe _ .”

Clint drove to a different city, taking them away from their direct route. He stopped a few times, checking on Bucky’s progress. Most of the wounds looked like nothing more than Bucky getting into a fight with a MMA fighter. Most of the wounds had healed enough that he only had the change out the bandages once. He took Bucky’s wallet and flipped through it, pausing when both of their Avengers ID cards. Clint ran his hand over the photos before he felt himself calming down.

Clint pulled into a busier town, the streets well lit to ease his own mind. Typically, Clint avoided more expensive hotels- he didn’t need all the fuss. However, the parking garage was attached and if Clint wanted to he could have had a valet park for them.

When he finally stopped for the night he sat in silence for a minute before he started to nudge Bucky. “Come on, wake up and help me out here,” he said. “Please?”

Bucky groaned and rotated his head. Clint kept patting him down, trying to get him to focus until stormy blue eyes finally opened and found their way to Clint. Clint let out a sigh of relief and leaned over the counsel to hug Bucky the best he could. “Hey buddy, you with me?” he asked, moving back and holding Bucky’s head in his hands.

“Tired,” Bucky grumbled, trying to swat Clint away.

“Yeah, I know you are. But I need you to help me, okay?” Clint asked. “I need you to walk inside with me, lean on me, act drunk, don’t care. But I need you to work with me, okay? Can you do that?” Bucky groaned but reached down and jabbed at the seatbelt before it came off. “That’s a Buck-buck. Just think of how amazing that bed is going to feel when you finally get to lay down in it.”

The process of getting checked in was a pain, especially with a two hundred and some odd pound super soldier hanging off of you and making impatient noises. Clint mumbled apologies under his breath. Clint finally resorted to flashing their Avenger cards and suddenly everything was easier. Fifteen minutes later, they were in an elevator and on their way up to a room. Clint kept poking and prodding Bucky to keep him awake, earning him various grunts and growls. By the time they got to the room and Clint got Bucky dropped down onto a bed, he was pretty sure he had worked off his past five meals.

“Alright, Bucko,” Clint said gently, taking Bucky’s boots off. “I need to grab things from the car which means you need to stay here, okay? No running off on me, that’s my job in this weird relationship we have going, alright?” Bucky muttered something and turned, cuddling a few pillows. “Yeah, alright. Just remember we have to share this bed, alright?”

Clint made it in one trip. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea, balancing Steve’s shield on top of his head, but the hotel had free coffee and it had been days since Clint had a decent cup. He juggled three cups, three backpacks Bucky had kept in the trunk, and Steve’s shield as he entered the hotel room.

“Honey I’m home,” Clint called. He saw Bucky sleeping peacefully and smiled. “You know, it’s getting really weird talking to someone who isn’t listening to me. I think this might actually be a sign of insanity or something.”

As carefully as he could, Clint got everything in their room situated before he checked on Bucky again, rolling him onto his back. His pulse was strong, his breathing was regulated and there wasn’t a fever. The wound on his side was almost completely gone now, just a little bruising left behind. Even the wound on his head and shoulder looked worlds better, which Clint was more than jealous about. Clint considered changing Bucky into something more comfortable before he decided against it- if there was one thing Clint had figured out it was that Bucky seemed to be a private person, keeping things close to his chest for the most part. 

So instead, Clint changed into cleaner clothes and dug out Bucky’s phone. “Sorry bud,” Clint said, using his finger to get inside. He knew there was one person he needed to call- someone he could have called a long time ago. He stared at her number and hesitated before he clicked the call button and put the phone up to his ear.

“ _ James _ .” He missed that voice, the straight to the point way she answered the phone. She always sounded like she was busy while still giving someone her full attention all at the same time. It was soothing. “ _ Clint? _ ”

“Hey Nat,” Clint greeted as the first few tears fell. He was relieved to hear her, and he couldn’t fight back any of his emotions anymore. He was tired, worn out, stressed, a bundle of nerves at their wit’s end. He missed her, he missed home, he missed everything.

“ _ It's okay _ ,” Natasha said in an attempt to soothe him. “ _ I know, Clint, but I promise it’s going to be okay _ .”

“It’s not though,” Clint groaned, reaching up and wiping his face off before he pinched his nose. He sat down on the bed carefully, trying not to wake Bucky up. “You didn’t come for me.”

“ _ You didn’t want to be found _ ,” Natasha answered. “ _ Are you ready to come home? _ ” Clint nodded his head and took a shaky breath. “ _ Words, Barton _ .”

“Yes,” Clint answered weakly.

“ _ How is James _ ?” Natasha asked.

“Alive. Breathing. He’s- he’s sleeping. I fucked up. I fucked up and I-”

“ _ You did what you thought you could _ ,” Natasha answered. “ _ I don’t know what is going on, but I know you. You did what you thought was best. Is James okay?” _

“We were at your safehouse, which isn’t safe anymore, just an FYI,” Clint said. “Some… aliens or something found us there, and he took some pretty hard hits. He seems okay though. The wound is healed, just a little bruising left. But his pulse is fine, he doesn’t have a temperature. He’s just… exhausted. I don’t know if somehow there was a dampener or something that could have knocked him out. I’m just-” Clint sighed. “I’m exhausted. Everything is setting in, everything hurts. But I’m okay.” 

“ _ If everything seems okay and he just needs to sleep it off, then I am sure it will be fine, _ ” Natasha said with a sigh. “ _ Did you call Steve or anyone _ ?”

“Tony had called Bucky and I talked to him briefly,” Clint answered. “He knows that Bucky is hurt but that we are okayish. I just- I just drove us to the closest big city where I thought we could be safe for a few nights.”

“ _ And you did that. You are tired, Clint, that’s all. You had a long day, long week. Your head is getting a bit scattered. _ ” 

Clint nodded and turned to his hip and tried to curl up a little. His legs brushed against Bucky but the man didn’t stir so Clint left his legs as they were.“What’s going to happen?”

Natasha was quiet for a minute, which only increased Clint’s nerves. “ _You will board a plane and come back to New York. From there, you will have an assessment done, see a therapist a few times, standard procedure. You will be kept on your floor during that time, with cameras installed. After that, you have options. I know Tony told James you only have one, but it’s Tony, and the guy has a soft spot for all of us. What those options are, I don’t know. I don’t think James knows either._ _All charges swept under the rug like the rest of ours in whatever fashion, and then you have more options._ ”

“What options did you pick?” Clint asked, his voice shaking.

“ _ I am still working on redemption _ ,” Natasha answered, just the way Clint expected her to. “ _ I think you should choose something more in line with what you want to do, Clint. But I think running from this because you are worried will be a mistake _ .”

Clint nodded and took a few deep breaths. “I’m an idiot.”

“ _ You are my favorite idiot _ ,” Natasha replied, amused. “ _ I would kind of enjoy having you back in my life again. _ ” Clint laughed and wiped his eyes. “ _ Why are you an idiot? _ ”

Clint looked at the back of Bucky’s head and swallowed. He knew he fell fast and fell hard, and that Clint was usually in too deep before he could pull himself back from it. He had let that happen with Bucky, but in a different way than normal. It was less of a feeling of romance and passion, and more like feeling comfortable and safe. He felt the way he had intended to make Bucky feel so he could leave. Now Clint just wanted to go home and see how far this feeling could go.

“I’m just… an idiot.” He sank a little, trying to get more comfortable. “Tell me a story or something?” he asked.

“ _ Did Bucky tell you Steve and Tony are dating? _ ” Natasha asked.

“No shit?” Clint asked, feeling himself relax as he finally calmed down from the adrenaline rush that was the entire day.

Natasha’s laugh made Clint’s chest feel a little lighter and he turned his face into the pillow a little. “ _ I was so mad at you because you weren’t here. It was so perfect Clint. So perfect. They were just shouting at each other, pissed as hell and Steve told Tony to go fuck himself. Tony, in all his Stark glory, told Steve to man up and fuck him himself. I thought Sam’s soul left his body and floated away. James was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Steve stared at him and asked what the hell. And Tony just shrugged and said that maybe they should talk about this whole fucking business over a burger and a milkshake. Clint… honey… it was amazing.” _ Clint was laughing and groaning by the end of the story, only though half of it was because of how delighted Natasha sounded. He held his ribs with one arm and the phone with his other hand. “ _ There are so many stories I could tell you. _ ”

“Tell me another one,” Clint requested before he closed his eyes.

“ _ So when Tony and Steve first decided to stop being whiny man children and apologize, they started pulling the team back together, _ ” Natasha said. “ _ So it started out with- _ ” Clint didn’t make it very far into the story before he fell asleep.

Clint woke up with a slight headache and some confusion on when exactly he had made it under the covers. Last he could remember he was on the phone with Natasha, and now he was lacking said phone, his hearing aids out and feeling incredibly warm and comfortable. He turned over to his back and looked at the ceiling before he slowly sat up.

Carefully, Clint grabbed his hearing aids and put them in. “No, we don’t need to be extracted early. I said I am fine. Just come at the agreed upon time, alright?” Clint heard Bucky telling someone. “Oh please, don’t act like you have never got hit with something in the heat of the moment and needed help. Clint was fine, he handled it. And now I feel like a million bucks.” 

Clint got up and took a few awkward steps towards the bathroom, his legs not quite ready to work with him just yet. Everything was back to feeling sore and stiff again, and Clint made a mental note that he needed to check himself over once in the bathroom since he hadn’t done that last night. With the door slightly ajar, Clint pushed it open the rest of the way and leaned against it. 

Bucky looked up at him and gave him a smile before he looked back in the mirror. “I’ll call you tonight, alright?” he said before he hung up. “No plotting. Not really at least. Just trying to convince Steve we are fine.”

“Are we fine?” Clint asked.

Bucky tilted his head off to the side before he pulled himself up onto the sink. “Seeing as you kinda got me out of a bad situation? I am going with we’re fine.”

Clint nodded and looked down. “Can you tell me why you have Cap’s shield?” he asked.

“Originally I was supposed to drag you to a UN meeting,” Bucky answered. “You were supposed to dress like Steve, not say a word, sign some papers, smile pretty for the camera, and call it even. Steve is back from his off-world adventure, he handed it. The only reason I asked you to go with it is because we have been trying to cover up the fact Steve has been off world for three weeks. Now that Steve is back, us having the shield doesn’t really matter.”

“I was supposed to sign Steve’s name and act like Steve?” Clint asked. “Ballsy and illegal.”

“You hotwired a car and ficked a knife into someone’s neck,” Bucky said blandly before he grinned.

“I would like it to show on the record I didn’t say that I cared if I did illegal activity,” Clint pointed out, inching inside the room, closer to Bucky. “I was just pointing out that I was going to do it dressed as Captain America. I am pretty sure that is the most thrilling and oddly the most attractive thing ever.”

“I’m not quite sure how to take that,” Bucky said. “Do you have a thing for Steve?”

“Ew, no. Gross. Don’t. Blarg,” Clint said before he turned the faucet on and stuck his head under to get a drink.

“So it’s just the fact you would be doing it as the poster boy of everything right and just with the world?” Bucky asked, a little more than amused.

Clint stood up and pushed his hair out of his face, slicking it back with some water with a grin. “Exactly. Tell me that’s not attractive.”

Bucky held his hands up. “I’m neither going to confirm or deny that.”

“I guess what I should compare it to is…” Clint leaned over and placed a hand over Bucky’s. “Is it better or worse than your thing with holding hands?”

Bucky’s face flushed and he kicked at Clint. “You’re a menace.”

“I need to pee. Wanna hop on out?” Clint asked with a challenging look. Bucky shook his head and jumped down, walking by Clint and closing the door on his way out. 

Clint smiled and used the bathroom in peace. Clint stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror and huffed out a sigh. At some point Bucky must have cleaned up his face because there was a bandage over one eyebrow and another along his chin. Clint gently pulled away the bandages and observed the cuts. 

Clint took a shower, keeping it quick before he made sure all the small little nicks here and there were clean, the deeper cuts getting a small bandage over them before he was satisfied. When he was finally done, Clint looked at the soiled clothes and wrinkled his nose. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out into the main room, zeroing in on a bag.

“You have zero shame,” Bucky muttered, playing on his phone.

“Calm down, Millennial Barbie, I’ve got a good grasp on my towel,” Clint mused, pulling out clothes. “And don’t pretend like you haven’t seen me naked already. This is mild for today.” Bucky snorted, keeping his eyes glued onto his phone. “I need to go to the stores, buy something new. All I have left is jeans.”

“Whats wrong with jeans?” Bucky asked.

“Uhm…. besides everything?” Clint replied, eyeing Bucky. “That’s like asking what’s wrong with Steve’s uniform.”

“What’s wrong with Steve’s uniform?” Bucky asked, looking more confused by the second.

Clint smiled and batted his lashes. “That confused look on your face is adorable, you know that?” he asked before he collected his clothes and walked back into the bathroom. Once he was dressed he walked back out, running his hand through his hair. “As for Steve’s outfit… it’s hooded pajamas.”

Bucky dropped his phone onto his chest, a grin spreading. “What?” he asked with a laugh.

“It's all attached and spandex. It’s a glorified legging suit with a hoodie on top,” Clint answered. “Move over, share.” Bucky obliged and Clint flopped down on the bed next to him. “I am going to ask you for something nice. In return… I’ll go back to New York with you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Take tonight off from all this,” Clint answered. “We’re in a major city, we should be relatively safe. I want a night out, on Tony’s dime. Great food, find a shitty bar, play darts, get drunk. I want one last night of bad decisions before I am on lockdown.”

“I think I can manage that,” Bucky said. “So I do this- this one last night shindig… and you’ll go back to New York without any fighting?”

“I’d prefer if it lasted longer than a night but sure,” Clint answered.

“Why longer?”

“I’ve been working hard for three years. I could kinda use a vacation,” Clint explained with a grin.

“Yeah, I bet you could,” Bucky replied sarcastically, picking his phone up as he rolled his eyes. “How was your talk with Natasha?”

“Everything I thought it would be,” Clint answered. “She’s not the one who broke me down though, convinced me to go home.”

“No?” Bucky asked.

“Nope.” Clint closed his eyes. “Make plans, Barnes. One last night, right?’

“Yeah- one last night.” Bucky climbed over Clint and stumbled off to the bathroom.

Clint knew what he was doing and he tried to tell himself not to. It was stupid anyway. He wanted one last night out, hopefully a good night out. He wanted to hear Bucky laughing, cracking jokes at others expense. He wanted to see the way his face scrunched up before he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had fallen hard for the moments where everything felt normal, let himself develop feelings for a guy that he had no business developing those feelings for- it was a classic Barton Mistake, beginning to eventual end.

Their afternoon was lowkey. They ordered room service and bonded over watching terrible sci-fi movies from what looked to be the eighties. At one point Bucky even threw popcorn at the television.

“All I am saying is- robots are so much cooler than that,” Bucky declared.

“This movie came out before Tony was making robots,” Clint commented, reaching over and grabbing a handful of popcorn. “And robots can very much  _ not  _ be cool. We literally just got attacked by one.” Bucky shrugged as if that wasn’t that big of a deal. “And you weren’t around for Tony’s murderbot 1000.”

“Tony created a murderbot?” Bucky asked in disbelief. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Scar number 47,” Clint said, turning his arm around before he pointed to a thin scar stretching across his forearm near his elbow.

“... you numbered them?”

“No, that part I’m joking about,” Clint laughed. “I don’t know how many scars I have- never bothered to count.” Clint shoved the handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“I have to admit- growing up I loved technology,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. “Slightly mad that we never got that hover car as promised.”

Clink blinked and looked over. “You don’t know about Lola?” 

Bucky’s head snapped to the side to look at Clint. “If you are pulling my leg, I will murder you.”

“Not pulling your leg,” Clint answered. “Coulson’s car, Lola. She’s probably in storage somewhere. She flies. Horrible gas mileage though.” Clint grinned. “I used to make so many jokes about Lola. It was Coulson’s baby. Whenever I got in here I would say how tight she was, just to make Coulson give me the speech about how making sexual references to a car wasn’t appropriate. He once snapped because he thought I was going to scratch her up with my arrows and I casually told him that Lola wasn’t into the kinky stuff, she liked being handled gently. He about lost his top.” Bucky got that full belly laugh that made Clint’s stomach swoosh. “When this is all over and I have clearance I’ll help you find Lola, we’ll break in and take her for a spin.”

“Because that’s not illegal.”

“No, no, not at all,” Clint laughed. “Pretty sure we’ve covered the whole loose morals thing.”

“I got a question for ya,” Bucky said.

“Shoot.”

“Why would they pick you to be Steve’s backup?” Bucky asked. “There has to be a story.”

“So I was a new member to S.H.I.E.L.D., just pulled off the streets and recruited and I had a very strict schedule- Fury said it was to keep me out of trouble,” Clint said with a grin. “Little did Fury know I was a constant state of trouble. Anyway, I overheard some senior agents talking about how Captain America’s shield was locked away in one of the level seven storage units. Not exactly an 0-8-4 but something they didn’t want others to have access to. Looking back, I think the agents were saying it because they wanted to get me booted to jail. They weren’t my biggest fans.”

“Imagine that.”

“Snarky,” Clint said, reaching over and flicking Bucky’s nose. “Took me two weeks, but I figured out a way in.”

“As in you hacked your own employer.”

Clint turned his head, faking an appalled expression. “You say it as if that’s a bad thing.” Bucky snorted. “Anyway! I got in, and there it was. I was your typical kid growing up- thought Captain America was cool, read the comics. God was I wrong.”

“Stop,” Bucky laughed.

Clint smiled and looked down at his lap, crossing his arms. “I uh- started screwing around with it, you know? Flinging it around, richotting off the walls and everything. And that’s when I was caught,” Clint said. “Fury was pissed, threatened to void the contract and land my ass in jail for more crimes than I want to admit to. It was Coulson that said maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. They had been talking about revamping Captain America. Have a public figure who was basically a superhero. And I guess- I dunno. Coulson thought that person could be me.”

“So why did they pull you?” Bucky asked.

“Have we met?” Clint asked. “I’m not a public speaker. I could handle the fighting- I wasn’t a super soldier but I could throw that shield around like it was second nature. In the end they decided I was a damn good assassin. Can’t have that being Captain America. Benched the whole idea, hide the shield better because, well, it’s me- and that’s when I was assigned the task to kill Natasha. Which clearly went how they thought.”

“You got a history of causing trouble,” Bucky pointed out with what sounded like pride.

“On my S.H.I.E.L.D. file it states I have a hard time following directives and that I don’t respect authority,” Clint answered. “I view it as- I do what I think is right. Natasha? Killing her when she was just a teen who had a fucked up life was wrong. She was worth more than that. I was willing to bet my S.H.I.E.L.D. career on it. Not the first person I made that determination with.”

“Look at you, being a good guy,” Bucky taunted.

“I’m something,” Clint agreed.

They watched another movie, this time an old showing of Godzilla. Bucky was  _ not _ a fan, Clint declared him insane. Clint also warned him that they would likely run into something like this sometime- which led into talking about aliens and everything.

By the time they were leaving for dinner, most of the nerves Clint felt about having to go back to New York had diminished. He didn’t have the binder to read the notes, or even the plan for when he arrived home. All he had was stories Bucky told from the last year and a half, making the same snarky remarks Clint had made in the past. Things hadn’t changed- if anything, they had gotten a little better.

Clint grabbed his passport and tucked it away as Bucky collected his wallet. They walked out of the hotel and down the street, the chat shifting from the team to traveling. There were very few countries Clint hadn’t been to, and fewer that he wanted to visit anymore. Bucky had a whole world that he wanted to visit, making up for all the world he had missed out on.

“Here we are.”

Clint grabbed Bucky’s hand. “You are kidding, right?” Clint asked. Bucky gave him a confused expression. “Everyone is wearing suits and-”

“I called, arranged it, don’t worry.” Bucky patted his shoulder before he shook Clint’s hand off and grabbed the door for him. “It helps that I had Tony call as well. The guy  _ does _ have some perks. For how much of a pain in my neck he can be, he came through.”

Clint stepped in and waited for Bucky, who handled the hostess. Clint felt severely underdressed and almost told Bucky that they should just go for pizza or something. But Bucky reached a hand back and took Clint’s hand and tugged it once before he let it fall. Clint followed behind him and looked around the main room.

“You act like you have never eaten at a place like this before,” Bucky commented, sitting down.

“No, I have,” Clint answered. “A few times, usually under working as a spy. Normally I’m in a suit or something, and could easily blend in.”

“I didn’t take you for a guy that cared about all that,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow. “You  _ do _ get insecure.”

“Bro, you have no idea,” Clint muttered. “I’ve got insecurities piling on other insecurities.”

“Either way, this isn’t the worst situation you have been in in the last seven days alone,” Bucky said. Clint snorted and nodded in agreement before he picked the menu up. “So here is my game plan. I am ordering two meals, a drink, and a dessert.”

“Is this way of hinting to me that I need to get two meals and stuff myself?” Clint asked.

“Depends- how much you want Tony’s eyes to bug out?” Bucky asked innocently.

Clint felt the grin spreading quickly on his face. “So… this steak looks like you can add extra stuff to it even.”

“I mean, how could you not?” Bucky asked with a laugh. “I know we started a bit on the rough side. But I dunno- I have a feeling we are going to make up for that.”

Their meal was amazing. By the end, Clint wasn’t sure he was even willing to go to the bar, thinking going back to the hotel and unbuttoning his pants was the better option. Bucky was signing the bill, talking with their waitress with a smile.

“So… the bar?” Bucky asked when the waitress walked away.

“You are going to have to roll me there,” Clint said, getting up. “I’m never letting you talk me into that again.”

“Oh, because it took so much convincing,” Bucky laughed. They got outside and he wrapped an arm around Clint’s shoulders, making Clint bend a little to get on his level. “We can always go back to the hotel. Wouldn’t want to show you up at darts anyway.”

“Oh, that’s a challenge now,” Clint laughed. “Alright, let’s find a bar to close down the night.”

The bar was near their hotel. It wasn’t nearly as rundown as Clint wanted, but it had beer, a dart board, and sports on the television. Bucky and Clint made it their home near the dart board for most of the night, trying different angles to make shots and challenging one another. From one sniper to another, Clint was impressed. He had seen Bucky in action, but somehow in a laid back setting he was able to appreciate it much more than he had before. He could see the control, the way Bucky’s arm moved and followed through the action. The small smirk each time he hit his target was rewarding enough.

A few times Bucky had to excuse himself to take a call or send off a text. Clint watched him go before he shrugged and reordered a drink and threw the darts in a bored manner. There was probably a whole hell of a lot of planning when it came to escorting Clint back home safely. Not like Clint was going to do anything- he meant it when he told Bucky that he was going to go along with it.

Clint was tired of running, working alone and having to take care of himself. Just a few days in with Bucky and he missed the interactions, being close to someone, small, random touches. Talking to Natasha made him miss his friends. He was ready to settle down again, no matter what that meant. Whatever feelings he had for Bucky he was sure would go away once he was back with people again. Clint figured maybe it was because he was attention starved, maybe a tad touch starved, and was just projecting his feelings on the first person he could.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Bucky said, coming back over. 

_ Then again- maybe it’s not just the attention. _ Maybe it was that easy, barely there smile. Maybe it was the way Bucky put a hair tie in his mouth as he piled his hair up before he secured it. Didn’t help the man fit into his jeans nicely but Clint was trying not to focus on that fact, or that Bucky sometimes would give Clint this smile that felt like there was something more than just a little friendly banter between two people who barely knew each other.

“Not a problem. Probably a lot of last minute details, huh?” Clint asked. “Want to try pool?” he asked, tilting his head towards the table.

“Sure,” Bucky answered, picking up his drink and heading over. “And a lot, yeah.”

“I’m not going to pull anything stupid,” Clint said, trying to reassure him.

Bucky smiled before he bumped into Clint to get the table around. “Not even part of the conversation. I am taking your word for good there.” He set up the balls before he grabbed a cue. “Oh yeah. I got another question. And you are breaking.”

“Yeah yeah,” Clint said, lining up his shot before he broke, watching the table. “Stripes. Whats the question?”

“What happened in Budapest?” Bucky asked.

Clint grinned and shook his head, going for his next shot. “And so it begins. Yet another person askin’.”

“Come on. Give me something. I won’t tell the others.”

“Sure ya won’t.” Clint watched Bucky walk around the table and Clint leaned into his cue. “It really isn’t even that interesting. We just like keeping the magic alive with the team. It took them  _ years _ to figure out we weren’t dating.”

“How did they solve that one?” Bucky asked.

“Steve saw me out in public making out with some guy and couldn’t keep his trap closed during family night,” Clint answered with a pout. “I got a fake divorce and had to come out all in the same night. Shockingly, none of them found out about Bobbi.”

“Who?”

“Ex-wife,” Clint answered with a happy little hum when it was his turn. “Shotgun marriage because I’m impulsive and apparently charming. Didn’t work out, went out separate ways. We still talk though, so it’s all cool. You’d like Bobbi. Smoking hot, kick ass, can almost do that thigh thing Natasha does but somehow it’s not quite as attractive. Smarter than hell. She’s a PhD in biology, I think she specialized in microbiology.”

“Ties back into the scientist kink huh?” Bucky teased.

“I told you that in stupidity,” Clint pointed out. “It was more how confident in a fight she was that won me over, before I knew she was super smart.” He took the next few shots before he missed so Bucky could go.

“As I said, nothing wrong with it,” Bucky said. “Who do you think is actually going to win this? Because I know we are both purposely missing shots.”

“I was waiting to see when you were going to comment, to be honest,” Clint answered.

Bucky laughed and stood up. “My seven- she’s been watching you.”

“Not even remotely interested,” Clint answered. Bucky rolled his eyes. “What? I don’t flirt with everyone that walks on two legs, thank you. Kinda… kinda got my eyes set on someone else. But I need to kinda wait on that whole mess until I know what’s going on with my life.”

“Right,” Bucky commented before he polished off his beer.

“Ready to get out of here?” Clint asked.

“The game isn’t over,” Bucky answered.

“Oh.” Clint leaned over and took shot after shot, each more complicated until finally the entire table was clear minus the cue ball. “Better?”

Bucky waved a hand in a circle in front of Clint’s body. “Attractive.”

“Oh shut up,” Clint laughed, shoving Bucky playfully. He finished his beer and waggled his eyebrows.

The conversation fell but for the first time, Clint didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. Bucky looked out at the street while Clint occasionally looked at him before he glanced at the storefronts. Clint made a beeline for the coffee once they entered the hotel before he caught up to Bucky and knocked into him.

“Excited or drunk?”

“Excitedly tipsy,” Clint said with a smile before he sipped his coffee. “Coffee is important. You starved me of it.”

“I starved you of it?” Bucky asked, laughing. “Christ.”

“I’m joking. My shoelace is untied,” Clint said. “It was three drinks over three hours. How much of a lightweight do you think I am?” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Coffee is important though. So let’s make a pact here and now. Back at the Tower, assuming that’s where I’m going-”

“It is.”

“-you make sure that the coffee machine has coffee in it when on the communal floor. Then I don’t have to do it.”

“You’re so lazy,” Bucky said, walking towards their room. “Hey- you want to do something dumb?”

“I love doing dumb shit,” Clint answered. Bucky went into the closet and grabbed the shield, wiggling it in his hands. “... where?”

“I saw an alley. Come on,” Bucky said. “Show me how you can upstage Steve. I didn’t get to appreciate it during the fight. Trying not to die and all.”

“Never said upstage,” Clint said, turning and following Bucky out. “Why are you so damn happy about this? Not a single time in the last several days have you looked this happy. You drunk?”

“Super soldier. Unless it’s that Asgardian stuff, there is very little chance of me getting drunk,” Bucky answered. “You said leave everything behind for one night, right?” Bucky asked, looking nervous. “So… maybe this is me trying my best to do that?”

Clint blinked as he watched him. “Fuck, you’re too cute to say no to. Fine.”

“Aw, you called me cute.”

“Keep it up, Barnes,” Clint said, snatching the shield away. “Give me this.” Bucky laughed and followed Clint outside. “I can’t believe I’m even going to do this. Aside from tonight and the handful of times I had to toss this thing to Steve, you know how long it’s been since I goofed off with this thing?”

“Oh please, Steve said you hid it on him all the time,” Bucky said.

“I hid it, I didn't play with it,” Clint said defensively until he found an alley that didn’t have any low windows. “Alright. Go long.” Bucky grinned and jogged down the alley. “You laugh and I’m going to stop.”

“Just throw it like a frisbee,” Bucky said.

“Should have worn gloves,” Clint muttered.

After a few easy throws, they started calling out trick shots to each other, trying to bounce it off walls, off trash cans, anything they could think of. It was like being at the bar again but better. There was no loud music, no asking for things to be repeated, no having to share the dart board or worry about bumping into people.

It wasn’t until someone shouted out their window that Bucky came running back towards Clint, apologizing profusely in Japanese that they decided to call it a night. Clint laughed and handed the shield over to Bucky. Bucky looked at the shield then knocked Clint’s arm out of the way as he stepped in and pulled on Clint’s shirt until they were almost on the same level. Bucky looked at Clint’s lips before he kissed him, his free hand pressed against the side of Clint’s face gently. 

Clint was stunned, speechless even as Bucky pulled back and grinned. He slipped by Clint and walked down the alley backwards. Just like when he was at the bar, Bucky waved his hand in a circle towards Clint. “Attractive,” he said before he turned around and disappeared around the corner. “You coming?”

Clint laughed and ducked his head before he jogged to catch up. He switched the shield from his right to his left when he reached Bucky. Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. Before he could say whatever was on his mind his face turned from looking smug to surprised as he looked down, Clint fitting his hand into Bucky’s.

“Getting the feels yet?” Clint asked casually.

“We’re talking about this tonight,” Bucky said calmly.

“The hell we are. We have a long flight tomorrow. We’ll talk about it then,” Clint answered with a grin. He looked at Bucky and his hopeful smile. Clint waved his hand at Bucky lazily. “Attractive. And just remember- you started this.”

“Something tells me I’m in for a world of shit,” Bucky said as his smile turned more confident. 

They let go of each other when they got to the hotel, Bucky taking the shield as Clint grabbed his coffee, darting into the elevator before the door could close on him. “Smooth.”

“The absolute smoothest,” Clint agreed. “Brimming over with cool confidence.”

“You’re brimming over with something,” Bucky said, stepping out and getting the door to their hotel room. “I should probably be honest with you.” Clint’s smile dropped as he closed the door, his stomach clenching. “We’re not going to New York tomorrow.”

“Then… where are we going?” Clint asked hesitantly. 

“Finland,” Bucky answered. Clint frowned, his mind racing to figure out what was in Finland. “You said you could use a vacation. And I told Tony and Steve that you needed a little more convincing, especially since Japan hasn’t exactly been great for relaxing.” Clint let go of the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding onto and his shoulders relaxed. “Natasha said you have only been there once. I’ve never been so… secret vacation?”

“You know, most people kinda wait a little into their new… whatever this is for them to go on a vacation together,” Clint hinted with a weak smile.

“I wouldn’t exactly call either of us normal, would you?” Bucky asked. “You can say no. I will call Tony right now and tell him you decided New York was fine. Or… you could go to Finland with me, trying to see the Northern Lights, visit some Christmas village. There's some cool castles.”

“We going to try skiing?” Clint asked.

Bucky shrugged and gave him a small, easy smile. “I guess that depends- is that going to talk you into coming home?”

“It’s definitely not going to talk me out of it,” Clint answered. “You really want to do this?”

“I think I can put up with you for another week,” Bucky commented.

“I’m not sure I can. Your second pick there was a Christmas village,” Clint teased. “First you admit to having a holding hands fetisth. Now I have to do sappy things with you like going to a Christmas village. What next, matching sweaters?”

Bucky held his hands up. “Woah, woah. Slow down there. Now you are moving a little too fast here for me.” Clint let out a surprise laugh and covered his face. “The matching sweaters clearly comes after adopting a pet. And adopting a pet comes after the first awkward as hell family dinner where we step out.”

“Oh God, you said step out,” Clint groaned. He dropped his hands to Bucky’s shoulder when he felt hands on his waist. “So this is weird. Does this mean we’re dating? Cause it kinda doesn’t feel right calling it that.”

“We could go with casually seeing each other,” Bucky suggested.

“I could go with casually seeing each other. For two whole weeks straight, just us, no one else around” Clint replied with a sarcastic smile before it melted into something softer. “Why? How?”

“Shit happens. You’re cute and I have a thing for badass blondes who are idiots,” Bucky commented, walking to the bathroom. “That about cover it?”

Clint sighed. “Yeah, pretty much. Hey, can I see your phone? I just want to send Nat a text.”

Bucky dug it out of his pocket and tossed it to Clint. “Password is 12345.”

“.... God I hate you,” Clint mumbled as Bucky closed the door, busting a gut. Clint walked to the bed and sat down before he called Natasha.

“ _ Hello, my favorite little birdie _ ,” Natasha greeted.

“Thank you,” Clint said. “I don’t exactly know what you did, but… thank you.”

“ _ Enjoy Finland. Take stupid photos and sent them to me _ ,” Natasha suggested. “ _ And Clint? You could do worse than Barnes. Don’t screw this up for yourself _ .”

“Yeah, love you too,” Clint muttered. “See you in a week,” he added before he hung up the phone.

  
  


Bonus scene:

“So I was thinking…” Bucky said slowly, the snow crunching beneath his feet. Clint turned towards him before he pulled himself up and sat on top of the stone wall. Bucky froze in his spot then groaned. “I hate when you do that.”

“You said no dangling feet,” Clint said with a smirk. “My feet are brushing up against solid ground right now.”

“You’re a shit,” Bucky commented. “I was thinking… maybe we should… head south.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Head south?”

“We hit a cold snap in October, forced us to stay inside, not much of a vacation,” Bucky said. Bucky’s phone would tell a different story. “You caught a very minor cold. So we have to go somewhere warmer, with a better climate.”

“Somewhere like where?” Clint asked.

Bucky stepped up and Clint wrapped his legs around Bucky. Bucky shot him a brief glare before he pulled his phone out. “I don’t know. Tel Aviv?”

“As in Tel Aviv, Israel?” Clint asked. Bucky shrugged and tapped his phone against Clint’s chest. Clint took it and leaned forward and smiled before he took the photo from them, handing the phone back. “I mean, I’m not opposed. Not sure I’ve actually been there. This isn’t going to turn into some weird religious experience trip, is it?”

“No, you dork,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe a bit of historical lessons though.”

“Awww, you are going to make me learn stuff,” Clint whined.

“What if… I promised to wear a scarf and buy fake glasses?” Bucky said.

Clint paused and gave it thought before he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, Bucky moving closer. “Don’t play with me, Hipster Ken doll. You are stepping on very dangerous ground right now.”

Bucky grinned and licked his lips, setting his phone down before he put his hands on Clint’s thighs. “I would also like to remind you we are very high up and if I push you, that’s a very long far.” He rubbed Clint’s thighs with a cheeky smile, leaning in.

“Mhhh, that’s hot,” Clint answered before he leaned in to kiss him. “Alright, fine. You figure out how to work this, I will gladly go to Tel Aviv with you. But! We are doing more than history crap. We’re doing, I don’t know, nature walks too if we can find them. And we are going to the shopping district wherever so I can pick up a trinket for Natasha.”

Bucky tried not to grin, Clint watching as his lips lost the battle. “Kind of like the Avengi-cats?”

Clint gasped. “You can’t make fun of Avengi-cats. They are meowgical.”

Bucky groaned before he laughed. “Christ, did I hit the jackpot with you,” he commented. “Okay, ready for this?” he asked.

“Work your magic.”

Bucky picked his phone up and turned the speaker on. He tapped a finger to his lips and Clint couldn’t help but to grin. “ _ Hey Bucky _ ,” Steve answered. “ _ You’re on speaker. Say hello to Tony. _ ”

“Hey Steve, Hey Stark,” Bucky said.

“ _ How’s Finland? How’s Clint? _ ” Tony asked.

“Finland has been a bit of a disaster,” Bucky answered. “Clint came down with a cold when we got here, we haven’t really done much of anything. That being said- I should probably redo his request and pick somewhere a little warmer, drier climate.”

“ _ You’re stalling _ ,” Steve accused.

“Would I do that?” Bucky asked. “He was thinking of Tel Aviv?”

“ _ What would Clint want to do in Tel Aviv? _ ” Tony asked.

“Hell if I know. I think he’s having some sort of religious experience or something,” Bucky answered and Clint’s jaw dropped. Bucky smirked and put his hand over Clint’s mouth. “Maybe he wants to get baptised or something. Yesterday he kept moaning oh God. Must be really sick.” 

Clint bit Bucky’s hand and glared. Bucky was holding back a laugh, his shoulders shaking. Bucky leaned forward, held his phone away and kissed the tip of Clint’s nose before he stood back up.

“ _ I feel like I am being scammed right now _ ,” Tony said. “ _ Put Clint on the phone _ .”

“Sure thing, hold on,” Bucky said. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Hey Clint- Tony and Steve are on the phone for you. Can you take it?” Bucky held the phone out and mouthed  _ hit me with your best shot _ .

Clint took the phone and faked a cough. Clint had been a pro at faking being sick since he joined S.H.I.E.L.D., so faking it for Tony and Steve was nothing. “Hey guys,” he answered.

“ _ Hey, how are you feeling _ ?” Steve asked. “ _ Bucky mentioned you have been sick _ .”

“Yeah, he’s been treating me so nicely,” Clint said, unhooking his legs from Bucky and slowly leaning backwards. Bucky’s eyes widened and he reached out to grab Clint to stop him. “Made me watch some show on Israel. Thought I’d go see the nailed since he likes it so much.” Bucky’s eyes widened and his face flushed.

“ _ I think you mean the Nile _ ,” Steve commented. “ _ And I don’t think the Nile runs through Tel Aviv. _ ”

“Oh, right. Sure. Nile River,” Clint said before Bucky dragged him off and away from the wall. Clint leaned against Bucky. “I had to save him yesterday. He was gagging on-”

“Give me that!” Bucky said, taking the phone away.

“ _ Did you choke on something? _ ” Steve asked, sounding very concerned.

Clint laughed and pointed downwards gleefully. Bucky elbowed him and Clint faked a coughing fit. “Look, can we go to Tel Aviv then fly home?” Bucky asked, cutting to the point.

“ _ Sure, go ahead _ ,” Tony answered. Clint grinned. “ _ Last vacation though, got it, Bird brain?” _

“Yes sir,” Clint answered.

“ _ And for Pete’s sake, stop telling sex jokes _ ,” Tony added before he hung up.

Clint bursted out a loud laugh and placed his forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “Did you  _ really _ have to take it that far?” Bucky groaned.

“Oh please- now Tony gets to tell Steve all about the sex jokes. Who is it really hurting here?” Clint asked. He pulled his head up from Bucky’s shoulder and kissed him. “Just remember- you started it,” he mumbled against Bucky’s lips.

“I have a feeling I’m going to hear that a lot,” Bucky answered before he kissed him again and walked. “So hey! I was thinking next week you should meet my family.”

“Is that so?” Clint asked. He reached out and took Bucky’s hand. He gave it a light squeeze, and was relieved when he received one in reply. They were still good. “You want to tell me about them?”

“They might be a little much,” Bucky explained. “First there is Tony- who can and will make fun of your hideous haircut.”

“The faux hawk is in, thank you,” Clint answered. “But yeah- tomorrow before we go to the airport I am going to a shop to get it chopped off.”

“Probably a good idea,” Bucky agreed. “And then there is Steve, who is now going to be giving us the stink eye the  _ entire  _ night. Maybe even a speech.” Clint chuckled. “Sam will probably say stuff to rile Steve up if they tell Sam. Oh! And then there’s Bruce. Bruce is actually really nice, but boy does he turn green at the gills when he gets angry.” Clint snorted before he laughed and leaned into Bucky before they found a bench to sit on together. Clint threw his arm over the back as Bucky leaned in.

“Hey Buck?” Clint asked. Bucky glanced up. Clint used his left hand to reach across and tap his chest. “Attractive,” he said softly.


End file.
